Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame
by Grandson of Dumbledore
Summary: Albus Dumbledore returns to Hogwarts for his second year. A major competition is going on at Hogwarts this year and Albus finds himself embroiled in another mystery. But will his growing magical abilities be enough to see him through?
1. A Light In The Darkness

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling. The content is written for fun and not for profit.

Author's Note: Greetings to all my old readers. Here is your much awaited sequel to "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather". To new readers, I would recommend you read "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather" first, because this chapter will summarize the ending of the first book in my saga and thereby spoil the secrets of the first book. I welcome reviews from everyone who reads this, as your advice and criticism helps me to improve the saga of Albus Dumbledore at every step. Enjoy book two!

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"As one door closes, so another opens"

Chapter 1 – A Light In The Darkness

Albus was surrounded by darkness, an omnipresent cloak of sweltering, repressive black. His eyes saw nothing but ebony. In this state, his other senses became ever more aware. He could hear his own breathing, and the shallow breathing of his nervous friend Mars McGonagall beside him. He could smell the musky odour of a place that had not disturbed for years. And his hands clutched at the stone wall beside him.

'I wish you'd brought your wand,' Mars whispered; so quietly Albus barely heard him. It was as though Mars was afraid to disturb the countless ghosts that were surely floating around in the black. These ghosts, or course, existed entirely in Albus' and Mars' imaginations. But then again, two eleven year-old boys; skulking around in a place where they should not be, at a time when they should be in bed; probably deserved to be scared witless by the thought of ghosts.

'It's not my fault I left it behind,' Albus whispered back. 'I left it in my father's suitcase for safekeeping and you know we couldn't tiptoe into his tent in the middle of the night. It would be worth more than our lives to risk doing that. Besides, where is your wand?'

'I forgot it,' Mars said meekly. 'Maybe we should just go back, this is creeping me out.'

'No,' Albus said, a little too loudly. Both boys went rigid, their ears pricked to the darkness to hear if they had accidentally disturbed a mummy or something equally terrifying. When Albus was certain that they had not, he continued, 'we're going home to Wales tomorrow, so this was our last chance to explore the place by ourselves.'

'Well then, you should have brought your wand,' Mars said sulkily.

Albus had to admit, it was rather poor planning on his part to have forgotten his wand on such a crucial adventure as this one. He and Mars had been invited to spend the last two weeks accompanying Albus' father on his latest expedition to Egypt. Last year, the famed Archaeowizard, Archaeon Dumbledore, had taken Albus to the sands of Egypt where he had unearthed the ancient city of Heliopolis and the crypt of the dark wizard Imhotep. Albus had enjoyed that holiday immensely, but could never have known that he would return to Imhotep's crypt later in the year for a thrilling and near fatal adventure involving a corrupt Headmaster, a backstabbing teacher and the rebirthing of Imhotep. Albus had used all his skills (and these were many) to transfigure a phoenix feather into an actual singing phoenix. The song of the magical bird had destroyed the evil Imhotep before he took form as a permanently reborn wizard. Albus had saved the wizarding world, Headmaster Phineas Nigellus had been forced to resign and everything had been set right. Archaeon had insisted that Albus' achievement be kept secret, which had naturally resulted in the entire school knowing.

Albus Dumbledore and Mars McGonagall were students both of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Both were members of Gryffindor House, and both were about to embark on their second year at the wizard school. On the day that the Hogwarts Express left Kings Cross Station in London, September the first, Albus would be turning twelve, and a whole new year at Hogwarts beckoned. After the rampant adventures of his first year, Albus rather hoped he could have a quiet year and get along with the business of learning.

Which begged the question; what was Albus doing in a strange place in total darkness, just days before his new school year was about to begin? The answer lay in the fact that this trip, unlike the last one, had been rather uneventful and boring. Archaeon Dumbledore had been preoccupied with the excavation of an ancient Temple of Ast, the Egyptian Goddess Isis. He had spent so much time engrossed in his work that Albus and Mars had felt somewhat neglected. There was only so much fun to be garnered from watching an Archaeowizard using his wand to vanish great quantities of sand to reveal a Temple underneath; even if it was a beautiful building.

But what had interested Mars and Albus had been a conversation they had overheard between Archaeon and his fellow Archaeowizard, Januar Solstice, just a few days ago.

'I'm convinced we've found it,' Januar had said in excited tones one evening, sitting in a tent with Archaeon. Albus and Mars had been walking by the tent by coincidence, and took to listening through the fabric as Januar continued to speak. 'The ankh symbols all point to it, and if I'm correct in my assumptions, it is in the very innermost chamber.'

'I do not doubt you are correct,' Archaeon had said calmly. 'But stop talking while my son and his friend are eavesdropping. Albus, Mars, get away before I hex you both!'

Albus sometimes forgot what a good wizard his father was. Needless to say, he and Mars had heard enough to pique their interest and had decided to explore this inner chamber themselves on the last night of their stay in Egypt. They both hoped to extract something memorable from their holiday.

So here they were; Albus having apparated himself and Mars into what they hoped was the inner chamber of Archaeon's excavations. Apparation was a difficult magical skill, one which most wizards or witches only learned in their late teens. But Albus had been born with the unusual ability to apparate at will, a skill that had set him apart from an early age as being a wizard of remarkable potential. Apparation required that you knew where you were going, so Albus relied on a brief glimpse of a dark chamber he had captured whilst tailing his father one afternoon. The way Archaeon had chased him off had led him to hope that he was on to something interesting. Now, he and Mars were there, with no light to guide them and feeling rather stupid about it all.

'So what do we do now?' Mars asked.

'I do not know,' Albus admitted. 'Maybe if I summon Fawkes he can give us some light.'

Fawkes was Albus' pet phoenix, who had "adopted" him at the beginning of last year. The fantastic bird of crimson and gold plumes with magical abilities far beyond anything a human could manage had saved Albus' bacon more than once last year. It had taken an _Avada Kedavra _for Albus, as well as warning him on several occasions during the year when he was in danger. Fawkes was Albus' best friend.

At Albus' beckoning, the bird appeared in a flash of flame. Immediately the room was lit up. Mars' green eyes glowed like emeralds under a scalp of straight brown hair. Albus' own chestnut hair glowed like fiery gold from Fawkes' flame. Now phoenixes did not normally act as torches, but the bird was intelligent enough to light a torch in its bracket against the wall. He fluttered over to rest on Albus' shoulder, while the two boys took in the chamber.

They were in a large square room, the walls of which were painted with magnificent hieroglyphics. A woman with golden skin or deep black skin featured prominently in the pictures, often holding a child with a very distinctly painted black eye. Albus, who was widely read on Egyptian magic, knew this to be Isis and her adopted son Horus. The symbol of an ankh was also in prominence. This inverted cross with a circular loop at the top was the symbol of femininity, and also a charm used to enhance longevity. There were pillars in the middle of the chamber as well, all of which were beautifully painted. The walls were yellow, and the paints were pastel blue, brown, green, black, red or white. Albus and Mars both knew that they were in a very special room.

Albus' eyes were drawn to the very centre of the room. There, hundreds of sheets of metal arched out like the feathers of a male pheasant. The light from the flickering torch caught the metal at different angles, colouring the sheets bronze, silver, gold and various tones of yellow through orange through red. At the very core of this decoration was a simple black opening, through which Albus and Mars could vaguely see what looked like a torch. Except that it was not burning.

'Looks like it is meant to be a flame or something,' Mars said. 'It looks important with all this metal here. And the ankhs are pointing to it. Maybe this is what Mr Solstice was talking about.'

'You are right about that,' Albus said, nodding. 'This sure is an impressive looking torch. But why is it not burning?'

'Should it be?' Mars wondered.

'Well, I read about a myth,' Albus said, 'in _Magyk before the fall of Empyres, _by Achmed Al-Mohammed. Apparently when Isis married Ra, the Egyptian Sun-God, he gave her a gift of everlasting fire or something like that. It was said that she kept it in one of her Temples.'

'Are you saying that this is supposed to be an everlasting fire?' Mars said, gaping at the dark hole.

'Well, maybe,' Albus said, scratching his nose thoughtfully. It was slightly crooked, after a rock had fallen on his face in Imhotep's crypt at the end of his first year. Albus could have had it corrected by magic, but he chose to keep the crooked nose as a remembrance for his first grand adventure. He turned to Mars, shrugging his shoulders, and said, 'but Isis had hundreds of Temples all over Egypt. This could be the one, or it could be a distraction. The real thing is probably somewhere else; because an everlasting fire is … well, everlasting. And this one clearly is not burning.'

'What a pity,' Mars said. 'We did all this for nothing.' Mars looked quite dejected. When he had first learned that he was going to escape his neglectful family for a two week odyssey to the Egyptian desert with his friend Albus and his great Archaeowizard father, Mars had been ecstatic. He had envisaged himself battling dark Egyptian wizards, collecting artifacts and seeing mummies come to life. But none of these had eventuated, excepting the times when Archaeon had allowed them to dust off golden chalices or look at crumbling papyri. On his first real adventure since arriving in Egypt, Mars had been left feeling disappointed.

Albus seemed to sense his friend's dejection. He looked around the room, willing a mummy to materialize and give them something to do. He noticed a chest in the corner, half open and apparently filled with shiny objects.

'Look, Mars,' he cried, 'treasure!'

The boys scampered over to the chest and lifted the lid so that its contents were fully exposed. To their surprise they discovered that it was full of amulets, all in the unmistakable shape of an ankh. They were almost all made purely out of gold, with gems placed inside the circular loop at the top of the cross.

'What do you think?' Mars said after a long and thoughtful pause. 'Do you think we can get away with taking one each?'

Albus would not have gone as far as to suggest that, but after contemplating the matter for a moment, he realized that this was not such a bad idea.

'After all,' he voiced his thoughts out loud, 'there must be a thousand of these things in here. Surely it will not matter if we take one each.'

Mars' hand dived into the chest and emerged moments later with a fine golden ankh, its loop decorated with a brilliant green emerald. The light from the flickering torch behind them glimmered on the surface of the gem, giving it an almost milky quality.

'Are you going to take one or not?' Mars said. He was flushed red with the realization that he had just stolen from an ancient archaeowizarding dig. Albus realized that his friend was waiting for him to do the same. He examined the various ankhs, wondering what would suit him best. Eventually his eyes came to rest on the solitary ankh in the whole case that had a blue stone in its loop. Albus picked it up, his own blue eyes entranced by the shimmering sapphire in the ankh.

'We just cannot tell anyone about this,' Albus said, pocketing the ankh and turning a wary eye on Mars. If anyone finds out, we will be dead meat.'

'Of course I will not tell anyone,' Mars said. 'Although it is not like these things are going to be missed, is it? There are so many of them.'

Albus agreed, but a queasy feeling remained in his stomach. He was a good son; obedient, loyal, honest and always striving to meet the high standards set by his remarkable father. But every now and again Albus did something reckless. It was as though he itched to break free and be his own person, to do as he wished. Albus did not realize it, but at nearly twelve years of age he was starting to grow up. His teenage years were nearing, and the faultless, innocent child of old was on a path to adulthood. True rebellion would not come for a few years yet, but the journey had begun.

Albus and Mars returned to stare at the gaping hole in the middle of the fanned out strips of metal. Their eyes seemed to will the torch to burst into flame, as though it was wrong for there to be no light issuing from the hole.

That is when the torchlight flickered out all of a sudden and the chamber was cast into total darkness once more. Albus ceased to feel Fawkes' feet on his shoulder. Mars let out a shriek of fear.

'There are no mummies here,' said the deep, lustrous voice of Archaeon Dumbledore from behind them. Mars and Albus spun around and were temporarily blinded by the glow of Archaeon's wand. When they had successfully blinked away the tears and become accustomed to this new source of light, they looked up at the stern face of Albus' father with a different kind of fear in them.

Albus felt afraid because he knew that his hide could be tanned for being caught inside a chamber in one of Archaeon's digs in the middle of the night. Mars felt afraid for Albus, but also afraid that Archaeon might become as angry with him as to never let him visit again. Mars had spent last Christmas with the Dumbledores (during which Fawkes had taken them on a strange expedition to Imhotep's crypt), because his own family had not wanted him home during the holidays. The McGonagalls were kept very busy at the Ministry of Magic and their youngest son had always got in the way. Being permitted to visit the Dumbledores was an enormous treat for Mars; and right now, he was terrified that this privilege was in jeopardy.

To they boys' surprise, however, Archaeon did not launch into a savage display of anger as they might have expected. Instead, he lit a few of the wall-bound torches with his wand and started strolling around the chamber as if it was the Dumbledore living room.

'A fascinating place; is it not?' he said.

'Erm … yes, father,' Albus managed. Mars gave him a quizzical look. Albus shrugged in reply.

'I see you two have located the Everlasting Flame in the Temple of Ast,' Archaeon said mildly, coming to a stop in front of the mysterious sheets of metal. Albus and Mars walked up beside him, their curiosity now burning as fiercely as the supposed flame was not.

'Excuse me, Mr Dumbledore,' Mars said politely, 'but how can it be everlasting if, well, if it is not even burning?'

'Ah, excellent question,' Archaeon said. His blue eyes sparkled down at the boys over his oversized nose. Archaeon was a handsome man, with tanned skin lined by wrinkles and a long auburn beard tailing down his great chest. His son had inherited the hair and the eyes, but where Archaeon was tall and strong, Albus was short and skinny. Albus was also without a beard, as a father might expect of his eleven year old son.

'Father!' exclaimed Albus in protest. He was much too accustomed to Archaeon making mysterious statements and then not going on to provide an elaboration for any patience. Albus was itching to know what the story behind the absent Everlasting Flame was.

'What?' asked Archaeon. He wore a look of fake surprise.

'Just tell us why the Everlasting Flame has stopped burning!' Albus cried.

'I do not know why it has stopped burning,' Archaeon said. Albus and Mars both gave deflated sighs. 'Mythically speaking, the flame should continue to burn to this day. Unless it has been moved, or the magic behind it destroyed, I myself am at a loss as to its absence.'

'Do you think somebody stole it?' Mars suggested.

'Maybe the Egyptians were not good enough to create a truly everlasting flame,' Albus added. He regretted the statement immediately. Having read all fifty volumes of Achmed Al-Mohammed's history series, he knew that the Egyptians were, perhaps, the greatest witches and wizards of all time.

'Admirable suggestions,' Archaeon said; as if to cover up his son's self-disappointment. 'Neither correct, however. I have theories of my own, but I will not share them with either of you. What I will recommend, however, is that you both return to your tent and get a good night's sleep. We have a busy day ahead, packing our equipment and returning to Wales.'

Albus was just about to take Mars' arm and apparate with him back to their tent when Archaeon performed a summoning charm. The ankhs flew out of Mars' and Albus' pockets and landed square in Archaeon's callused hands.

'Interesting choices,' Archaeon said. He was frustratingly cool, without showing a hint of annoyance that Albus and his friend had taken what was not theirs to take. Archaeon Dumbledore's ability to remain unflappable and calm in any situation was something that Albus found highly frustrating at times, but admired all the same. Had you asked Mars, he would have said that Albus possessed this same frustrating yet admirable characteristic, and it was easy to see that he had inherited it from his father.

'I am sorry, father,' Albus said. 'We just … we just thought …'

'You thought that because there are thousands of them that it would be okay to take one,' Archaeon said. There was the vaguest hint of disapproval in his voice, and his blue eyes had hardened slightly.

'I am sorry too, Mr Dumbledore,' Mars said, flushing red.

'Do not be,' Archaeon said, smiling once more. 'I promised you both at least one artifact to take home with you from this trip. It would seem that you have both made your choices.'

'So we can keep them?' Albus said hopefully.

'Yes, you may,' Archaeon said. He handed them both back their ankhs. He stopped them from disapparating once more, and said, 'next time, ask before you take. I am surely not that frightening as to be unapproachable.'

'Of course not,' Albus said, feeling foolish, 'thank you, father.'

'A pleasure,' Archaeon said; blue eyes twinkling magisterially. 'Now get to bed.'

Mars and Albus were too excited to sleep for several hours afterwards, however. They lay in the silky sheets of their beds in their tent, chattering eagerly about the mystery of the missing Everlasting Flame. They talked until they had exhausted all the many dozen possibilities to explain its disappearance, until the first light of dawn was creeping under the edge of the tent like a grey mist, and until their heads hurt from lack of sleep and their eyes were so sore and tired that they burned like fire.

At last, with the first stirrings of activity happening in the camp around them, Mars and Albus fell asleep; each dreaming of a single white flame emerging from the dark centre of the shimmering metal decoration in the Temple of Ast.

But that was where the mystery came to an abrupt end. The boys' dreams were shattered like a burst bubble when Archaeon woke them up at midday to assist with the bringing down of the tents and the packing of the equipment. By the time they had arrived back in Wales to the announcement by Albus' mother Lubo Dumbledore that they were visiting Diagon Alley tomorrow to purchase their goods for the new school year; both Mars and Albus had forgotten about the Everlasting Flame.

A new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was an event of such import and excitement that a missing fire in a distant country became about as important as a pumpkin in a puddle. Albus was going back to his favourite place in the world. He was going to be reunited with his best friends, the self-named "Pirates". He was going to become reacquainted with the portraits, teachers, ghosts, other students and Peeves the Poltergeist; all of whom he had met in his first year.

Albus was going back to Hogwarts.

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Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed the first new chapter of a brand new adventure. I have started it in Egypt once again, for a very good reason (not just that Archaeon Dumbledore spends most of his time in Egypt). JK Rowling once remarked that Albus Dumbledore was knowledgeable in ancient and powerful Egyptian magic. So, as Albus' is schooled in magic at Hogwarts, so he acquires knowledge from Egypt as well. I don't have to tell you that this chapter will become very important later on …

Please review as frequently as you did with my first story. Your advice and encouragement is really what keeps me going, and helps me to write better all the time.


	2. Crossing Paths Diagon Alley

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Friends are the essence of life"

August 31, 1853

Chapter 2 – Crossing Paths Diagon Alley

_Albus was dreaming about a beam of blinding white light, issuing from a dark chasm surrounded by sheets of gleaming metal. He stood in front of it as if entranced. The light seemed to burn through him, warming him, keeping him alive. It was as though the very essence of life came from that dark chasm, like a gift spurting forth from the heart of the earth. The light was magical, Albus could tell. It was so magical that Albus felt like a muggle in its presence. He thought to himself, if only I could tap this magic … how powerful I could become …_

Albus sat bolt upright. His head hurt. He could not remember what he had been dreaming about but he knew that he had just had a thought worthy of a Slytherin. It was the realization that he had been thinking like a Slytherin that brought him out of his slumber. He racked his brains, trying to remember what the dream had been about, but it was to no avail. The memory of the dream had disapparated.

He sank back into the comforting embrace of his feather-down pillow and closed his eyes. He could hear the faint sound of Mars breathing in the bunk bed above him, and the soft croon of Fawkes as his phoenix slumbered by the window. Albus' father had conjured a bunk bed in Albus' room for the duration of Mars' visit, and Albus had finally saved up enough money (large parts of it a product of his brother Aberforth's nefarious schemes at Hogwarts) to purchase a mahogany stand for Fawkes to sleep on. Last year, Albus had planted an Everliving Oak in the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts for Fawkes to live in, but while he was staying at home in Wales he preferred to have the phoenix sleeping in his room. Fawkes had become so accustomed to the stand that he rarely left it, spending much of the day in doleful slumber.

'Rise and shine, boys,' called Lubo from the doorway. Albus sat up again and squinted through the sleep in his eyes. His mother glowed like a Veela; sunlight pouring through Albus' window where she had conjured the curtains open with her wand. Lubo Dumbledore had pure white hair running all the way down her back, twinkling blue eyes and rosy cheeks. She was quite beautiful, and Albus was more proud of her than anyone or anything other than his father.

'What is the time?' asked Albus. 'Do we have to rise already?'

'Yes you do, my little Fizzing Whizzbee,' Lubo said, smiling. 'We are headed for Diagon Alley, should you care to remember. Get up and we shall breakfast together first.'

'Very well,' Albus said, only half grumbling. He stumbled out of his bed while Lubo disapparated to the dining room. The Dumbledore mansion was sufficiently expansive to warrant apparating from place to place, although Albus was technically forbidden to flaunt his mastery of such technical magic, so he had to walk everywhere. That is, apart from when nobody was looking.

Albus dressed in his favourite purple robes with yellow stars, much like the dress his mother was wearing today. He noticed that Mars had not budged an inch. His mouth was open and his tongue was partly hanging out like a puppy dog. His eyes were visibly moving underneath his eyelids. Albus wondered what dream Mars was having. As he did so, his brain came up with an interesting way of rousing his friend. He picked up his wand from where it lay on his floor.

'Aquana!' said Albus. A jet of water shot out of the tip of his wand in Mars' direction. Except, Albus missed and the water hit one of the ancient maps plastered to Albus' wall. He hurriedly scourgified the water, hoping that he had not smudged the outline of Transylvania on the map "The Whereabouts of Vampyres". He said to himself, 'boyo, I am out of practice. Professor Prewett will not be happy with my wandwork.'

He tried again, 'Aquana!' This time the jet of water was sweetly struck. It hit Mars right in his open mouth. Mars fell out of the bunk bed, landing with a weighty thud on the floor. He spluttered and choked, spitting out a whole mouthful of water. His green eyes were wide and panicky, and with his brown hair on end, Mars really did look like a puppy dog.

'What happened!' he cried. 'How … what …?'

By now Albus was rolling around on the floor in gales of mirth. He pounded the carpet with his fists, tears streaming down his face.

'That was the funniest thing I have ever seen!' Albus giggled. 'I got you in the mouth but I never thought you'd fall out of bed as well!'

'What … you …' Mars began. Comprehension dawned on his brown face (both Mars and Albus had attained healthy suntans in Egypt). Mars' green eyes began to burn. He growled, 'you shot a jet of water into my mouth, did you?'

'Yes!' Albus exclaimed, bursting into another torrent of laughter.

'Right,' Mars said, steeling himself on all fours. Albus was too busy giggling to appreciate what was about to happen. Mars bounded forward, wrestled Albus' wand from his grip and started tussling with him on the floor. The boys whooped and laughed as they fought for physical supremacy. Both being rather small and scrawny, the battle was evenly matched. Mars had the upper hand from the outset, but Albus managed to grab him by the throat, an act of vandalism that had Mars seeing red. 'You are cheating!' he cried.

'Never!' responded Albus valiantly. He reached up with his other hand and started tickling Mars under the armpit. This tactic worked a charm, and Mars was soon howling with a combination of ticklishness and pain at being defeated.

'You are a rotten, scumbag, cheat,' Mars concluded once the battle was ended and his tears of laughter were drying up. 'Only a true Slytherin would behave in such a manner.'

'Is that so?' Albus said. 'Well it was a rather Slytherinish thing to do, to tackle me when I was busy laughing. Not to mention that you stole my wand.'

'I thought that was a clever tactic,' Mars protested. 'More like Ravenclaw, if you ask me.'

'And you sleep like a Hufflepuff,' Albus added. 'You really do not belong in Gryffindor after all.'

'How do I sleep like a Hufflepuff?' Mars said. 'That is an absurd statement! You snore like a ruddy muggle, anyway, so who are you to talk?'

'At least my tongue does not hang out …' Albus began, but Lubo had apparated into his bedroom with a loud pop.

'If you two are quite finished trading insults,' Lubo said serenely, 'you can join us for breakfast before we decide to go to Diagon Alley without you. Get dressed, Mars, and tidy up your pigsty Albus! It is a mess!'

She disapparated again; leaving the two boys staring at one another.

'Do not look at me like that,' Albus said. He flushed red at being told off by his mother in front of his friend. Mars could not help himself. He burst out laughing again. Albus could do no less than join in. They continued to giggle while Mars dressed into his green robes and Albus tried vaguely to conjure a few of his possessions back to their places in different drawers and cupboards. He remarked, 'my spell-work really is out of touch. I have not practiced nearly enough these holidays.'

'Your spell-work is out of touch!' Mars exclaimed. 'Your spell-work is better now than my spell-work was during term time! Professor Prewett will surely cook me for breakfast!'

'Now that would be a sight,' Albus grinned. 'I bet you taste terrible too.'

'Shut up, Albus,' Mars said, 'and let us get something to eat before they leave us behind.'

Two bowls of steaming porridge, four helpings of plum tart and a generous dollop of cream from the Dumbledore house elf Nibs later, and they were on their way by Floo powder to Diagon Alley. Mars and Albus were followed out of the fireplace by Aberforth and Lubo. Archaeon had business elsewhere and had chosen not to join them. Aberforth was now quite as tall as his mother. About to begin his fourth year at Hogwarts, he was fourteen and quite scrawny. This probably had something to do with his illicit use of Quick-gro potion. Aberforth could be quite a handy wizard if he put his mind to it.

'First stop, Flourish and Blotts,' Lubo said, consulting the list of supplies that Hogwarts had sent for her two sons. 'I believe it is a brand new bookstore on Diagon Alley. Quincy Flourish and Nancy Blotts are quite famous authors themselves, and something of a celebrity couple here in the Alley.'

Lubo was speaking more to herself than to the boys. Mars, on the other hand, was looking quite disconcerted. He seemed to hesitate for several moments before venturing to speak.

'Are we not going to fetch money first?' he said. His voice was quivering. 'I really ought to go to the bank myself, school-things are expensive.'

'Oh, your mother sent a bag of galleons by owl last night,' Lubo said. 'Do not fret, my dear.'

Lubo headed down Diagon Alley, the three boys in tow. Albus noticed that she carried herself with some regality, bystanders often turning to stare at her magnificent white hair and glowing face. Mars hung close to Albus, speaking in low tones.

'What about you?' Mars asked. 'Do you not have to fetch money from Gringotts?'

'Oh, no,' Albus said. 'I do not think my father has ever invested with the goblins. It is not that he does not trust them. No, I think my father just has better magic to protect our galleons than Gringotts does.'

'Better magic than Gringotts!' Mars exclaimed. 'Boy, he must be some wizard.'

'Yes, he is,' Albus said, smiling proudly.

'Look!' Aberforth intruded suddenly. 'It is the Jones brothers outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.'

Sure enough, three scruffy, blonde, blue eyed Welsh boys of varying heights were standing, noses pressed against the glass, in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies. The tallest was Thomas Jones, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Prefect, now entering his sixth year. The smallest was Davey, a Hufflepuff in Albus' and Mars' year who had defeated the first year bully Noxious Black in a duel (with a little help from Albus). The third was Gareth, a Ravenclaw entering his fourth year like Aberforth.

Davey gave Albus and Mars a wave and scurried over to say hello. Aberforth stood aside and started talking to Gareth. Thomas paid no attention at all to the arrival of the Dumbledores, and remained transfixed by something in the window of the shop.

'How are you doing?' Davey said, grinning madly. 'Did you have a good time in Egypt?'

'Yes we did,' Albus said.

'It was the best!' Mars said.

'We missed you this summer,' Davey said. 'Quidditch is never as fun with three as it can be with five … or six!'

'I know,' Albus said. 'I have not held a broom for a month; I would bet a galleon I cannot even fly anymore.'

'We all know that is not true,' Thomas said, wandering over from the window. He had managed to unglue his nose from the glass. They all knew that it was not true because Albus had shown brilliant flying ability in helping Gryffindor to win a crucial Quidditch match against Slytherin last year, when the Gryffindor Seeker Jonathan Glastonbury had been absent injured (by the Slytherin Housemaster, no less).

'Hello Thomas,' Albus said, a little shyly. Albus held the Prefect and Quidditch Captain in high regard. 'What is in the shop that has you so interested?'

'You have been out of the country, so you would not have heard,' Thomas said. 'The Quidditch League has gone professional. You know how, in sixteen seventy four, they formed the League, and they have been playing for pride since then? Well, now they are playing for galleons as well! The whole thing has been made professional; there are team uniforms and all sorts of things for sale!'

'Really!' yelled Mars and Albus together. They rushed for the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. To their sheer delight, they saw rows of brand new team uniforms, stacks of magazines and boxes full of cards.

'Collector's items,' Thomas explained over their shoulders. 'There are thirteen teams in all. The Caerphilly Catapults represent Wales. They are the striped green and scarlet uniforms. If you look in the collectors' cards boxes, you might be able to find a Dangerous Dai Llewellyn card, but I am told it is very rare.'

'This is just marvelous,' Mars said. His voice was dripping with desire but, like the Jones brothers, he knew that a glass window stood between them and the Quidditch items.

'Tell you what,' Albus said, well aware that none of his friends were particularly well-to-do, 'I will go in there and buy a whole box of cards. We will share them out between us without looking at them, so whoever gets lucky will get the good ones.'

Without letting any of the Jones boys try and stop him from being charitable, Albus swept into the shop and bought a box of collectors' cards. He returned outside and starting doling out cards face down. The Jones brothers and Mars stood with their palms face up, eying the cards greedily.

'Well, well, well,' drawled a familiar voice. Albus looked up to see the sullen face of Noxious Black, the son of the now deposed Headmaster of Hogwarts, and arguably the most rotten member of Slytherin House. Noxious leered at the Jones brothers and Mars, all four of whom were clutching a handful of brand new cards, and said, 'so the paupers have to rely on the great Albus Dumbledore for charity. Now is that not something?'

'I would have thought,' Albus said, giving Noxious his most piercing look, 'that after your father disgraced himself and the family name Black, that you would never show your face again.'

'My father is still highly thought of at the Ministry,' Noxious snorted. 'Your own father did not have the guts to take him to the Wizengamot, so nobody knows what happened last year.'

'Except the whole school,' Thomas said. 'Everyone heard about your father trying to bring a dark wizard back to life and having his life saved by a first year.'

'Nobody believes schoolyard gossip,' Noxious spat back, although it sounded very much to Albus like a line rehearsed or parroted from his father. 'Besides, I do not see Mr. Dumbledore or Mr. Jones or Mr. McGonagall having dinner with the Minister for Magic.'

'Oh stop your gloating and get out of here,' Albus said.

'Well, actually, I am,' Noxious said with a strangely happy smile. 'With the Tournament on this year, I plan to make connections with a foreign school and hopefully, by Christmas, yours truly will be getting educated somewhere better than Hogwarts.'

'Tournament?' said Mars and Albus together. Both looked equally surprised and Noxious met the realization that neither knew what he was talking about with glee.

'You do not know?' he laughed. 'Ah, poor neglected fools. I pity you.'

And with a flick of his preened black hair, Noxious Black strutted off.

'What tournament?' Albus said urgently, turning to Thomas. As a Prefect, he would know about something like this.

'Oh, the Triwizard Tournament,' Thomas said. 'It is held every four or five … or seven years, depending on how many people died the last time. I think two died in eighteen forty eight, so it has been five years since the last one was held. This year it is being held at Hogwarts, so it should be an interesting year.'

'What is the Triwizard Tournament?' Mars asked. Albus, having read all of _Hogwarts – A History,_ was able to venture an answer.

'It is a competition between the best wizards or witches from three of the best schools in Europe,' Albus explained. 'It involves three very difficult tasks and the winner gets what they call … eternal glory.'

'Wow,' Davey mouthed. Thomas gave him a funny look. Albus guessed that Thomas had probably explained the Triwizard Tournament to Davey before now; but Davey was a little bit slow to say the least.

'So you will enter, Thomas?' Albus said.

'Yes, I suppose I shall,' Thomas said, looking solemn.

'I am sure that the Goblet will pick you,' Albus said. 'You are the best Gryffindor, and we are the best House.'

'What about you?' Mars wondered out loud. 'You will enter, surely?'

'Me?' Albus said. 'Do not be ridiculous, I am only turning twelve tomorrow.'

'Yes, but you are the best in our year,' Davey said.

'If I may say so, without offense meant, Albus,' Thomas said, 'even the leader of the Pirates is far too young and inexperienced for the Triwizard Tournament.'

Albus nodded. Mars' and Davey's eyes were wider than saucers. The revelation that the Triwizard Tournament was beyond even their champion friend Albus Dumbledore was astonishing. They both came to the conclusion that this Tournament had to be virtually impossible, if Albus would not be able to handle it.

'There you boys are!' exclaimed Lubo. Albus' mother came hustling down the street, three other adult witches accompanying her. One of them was Mrs. Jones, who had messy blonde hair and blue eyes just like her sons. 'I toddled off to Flourish and Blotts and got caught up talking to these ladies. It took me ten minutes to realize that you were not still with me. Come, hurry, the books are selling out fast and you will not want to start the school year without them.'

'I have bought yours,' Mrs. Jones told her sons. 'We will leave you to it, Lubo, I must take my boys to the Owl Emporium.'

Albus, Mars and Aberforth bade farewell to the Jones brothers and turned to follow Lubo. She led them to a crowded bookstore with brand new lettering overhead the display window. It read; _Flourish and Blotts – Purveyors of Quality Books, Scrolls and Papyri._

Inside, Albus was crushed by dozens of people pushing their way to the front of the queue. Fortunately Lubo had some sort of aura around her which allowed her to reach the front easily, and her three sons were able to follow. Albus had a feeling that his mother was using her magic in an underhanded way. She was every bit as powerful as Archaeon Dumbledore, but she rarely showed it.

Lubo had command of Albus' booklist, so he only found out what texts he would be using when she turned to place a pile in his hands. As Professor Prewett had been giving Albus advanced tuition, he received a number of fourth and fifth year texts. But one text was at the standard level, and the author had a familiar name.

'Mars; look at this,' Albus said, pointing at the cover of a dusty brown text, '_Principles of Defeating the Dark Arts – A Historical Perspective, _by Januar Solstice.'

'Who?' asked Mars.

'It is Januar Solstice,' Albus said, 'my father's Archaeowizarding colleague. The one who found the Everlasting Flame and we overheard him.'

'Albus!' yelled Lubo all of a sudden. '_Silencio! _Will you not reveal the secrets of your father's archaeowizarding finds to everyone in this shop?'

Albus mouthed an apology and spent the next twenty minutes waiting for his mother's spell to wear off. It did not, so eventually he had to tug on her dress while they were buying owl snacks for Mars' pet owl Jupiter in another shop, and she undid the silencing charm reluctantly.

Once all the requirements of Albus', Aberforth's and Mars' lists had been fulfilled, Lubo relented to the boys' persistence and agreed to let them have milkshakes at Gorgyle Gorgyllen's. It was there; while all three boys had their noses in creamy chocolate drinks, that a few of the Pirates came running up to greet them.

'Albus!' cried a shrill voice. Before Albus could react he was buried in a hug. The girl stepped back after virtually throttling him to reveal sandy hair framing a pretty face with dark eyes. It was Victoria Moody, a girl from whom Albus' thoughts could rarely stray.

'Victoria,' he said, 'how good to see you! And Emily! Maggie!'

Emily Marchbanks and Maggie Weasley were also present. They exchanged excited greetings with Mars, Aberforth and Albus; gladly accepted Lubo's offer that she buy them all milkshakes, and sat down to listen to Mars and Albus regaling their trip to Egypt. In turn, Victoria had a story to tell about her trip to East Africa with her parents. Even though Egypt was several thousand miles north, the thought that Victoria had been on the same continent as he seemed to warm Albus' core. He listened intently as she spoke.

'… we were going by slow boat, of course,' she was saying, 'but Father grew impatient and, well, he went and magicked the boat along, if you will. Mother was furious, but when we arrived after just three days of sailing she forgave him pretty quickly. You know how long it takes to sail around the Cape of Good Hope. Anyway, the Kikuyu witchdoctors were a fearsome sight I can tell you. They make their muggles swear blood oaths, and if they break them, they drop down dead!'

'It sounds very dark to me,' Mars said. 'What were you doing there?'

'Father works in the field of magical weaponry development for the Ministry,' Victoria explained. 'What with the world situation, one never knows when we might be at war with other wizarding nations. So he went to East Africa to try and learn from the voodoo witchdoctors. I think he learned some pretty neat stuff, I know I did.'

'Will you show us, please,' Albus said. His blue eyes gleamed at the prospect of seeing voodoo witchcraft.

'I beg your pardon,' Lubo interrupted severely. 'Not at a table in front of Gorgyle Gorgyllen's, right in the middle of Diagon Alley! Now, finish up your milkshakes, we really ought to be heading back before dark.'

The six children happily slurped down the remainder of their milkshakes. Albus lingered with his farewell of Victoria, bade goodbye to the other two girls and then followed Mars, Aberforth and Lubo back to the nearest fireplace.

'That Moody girl is a pretty one,' Lubo remarked, turning a coy eye on her younger son. 'Do be careful though, those voodoo spells can be quite entrancing.'

'Mother!' cried Albus, turning a bright shade of pink. Aberforth and Mars could not resist releasing a howl of laughter, and for the remainder of the evening back home in the Dumbledore mansion, Albus endured endless teasing about his undying love for one Victoria Moody.

Once he had resigned himself to the inevitable taunts, Albus managed to see the bright side. Tomorrow was his birthday, and that meant a train ride to Hogwarts for the start of the new school year (and seeing Victoria Moody again, quite coincidentally).

Author's Note: There you go, a second installment of the adventure. I will not be quite as proficient at updating every few days as I was last time. I am quite busy but I should manage at least one update a week. Please keep the reviews coming and do not be afraid to critique my work. I am very flattered by all the nice things you all say, but it would be helpful sometimes if you could add some advice or some requests too. It can only improve my writing, and I won't hex you if you criticize me!


	3. Back to Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Journeys are the markers by which we measure our lives"

Chapter 3 – Back to Hogwarts

'Arise and shine, for the morning is young but not the boy, for another year has passed in the sands of time!'

So Archaeon Dumbledore boomed a greeting to Albus on the morning of September the first. Albus fumbled about underneath his blankets, trying to make sense of the words that had pierced his dreams. He sat up, blinking wildly in the bright morning sunshine. It took him a few moments to see through the haze. His eyes were taking an unusually long time to focus on the people standing around his bed. Eventually the haze cleared and he could see his mother, father and brother Aberforth, and Mars McGonagall peering over the edge of the bunk-bed above Albus' head. Fawkes was sitting on his perch as usual. The brightly coloured phoenix gave him a subtle wink.

'Happy birthday, dearest,' Lubo said. She leaned down and planted a kiss on Albus' forehead, using both hands to hold his cheeks. Albus received handshakes in turn from his father and brother, before he was able to turn his attention towards the pile of presents at the foot of his bed.

The first was a small package from Mars. As soon as Albus picked it up and turned it over in his hands, Mars' head disappeared over the edge of the bunk-bed. Albus teased open the plain brown wrapping and discovered something quite unexpected. It was a rudimentary hour glass, filled with bright yellow sand and made of a rather plain sort of wood and almost opaque glass. It looked just about ready to fall apart on itself.

'Thank you Mars,' Albus said, sounding genuinely pleased. Mars' head reappeared over the edge. His face was pink. Albus asked, 'did you make this?'

'Yes,' Mars said softly. 'It isn't very good, I know, but I used sand from the Egyptian desert to make the glass and to put in the hour glass.'

'That is just brilliant!' Albus exclaimed. Mars' eyes lit up. 'I don't think Professor Prewett will have any complaints over your wand-work in Charms if you can make something like this.'

Mars went scarlet and disappeared again. Albus smiled quietly to himself as he stowed the hour glass on the shelf beside his bed. He would use a few spells of his own to tidy up the appearance of his new timekeeper, and would add a Constant Turn Spell to keep his timekeeper flipping over every time the sand ran out.

Albus noticed that Aberforth was hopping from foot to foot impatiently.

'Open mine,' Aberforth said, 'the one with the grey wrapping.'

Albus did so, and discovered that he had just become the owner of _'A Guide to Magical Secret Keeping' _by Orion Oberworthy. He turned the book over to read the blurb.

'_Want to keep secrets?' _Albus read out loud, '_then this is the book for you! Learn how to enchant codes into the walls of your residence! Become an expert at hiding real objects inside the painted world of portraits! Seal the lips of your trusted confidantes so that they will never unleash your secrets! Befuddle those who seek to steal your secrets by …'_

'That is quite enough,' Archaeon growled. 'I do not quite know where Aberforth found that book but I doubt it was in Flourish and Blotts. I will hex you later, boy, for going down Knockturn Alley without permission!'

'I never went down Knockturn Alley!' Aberforth said. 'I swear I did not!' As he said it, Aberforth flashed a wink at Albus. Archaeon, who never missed a trick, promptly hexed Aberforth so that he was smacking himself on his backside with his own hands. Aberforth started yelling, 'ouch! Make me stop hitting myself!' whilst running around Albus' bedroom, spanking his own bum. Mars and Albus rolled around on their beds, laughing until the tears rolled, before Lubo finally ended Archaeon's punishment.

'Aberforth's lesson is learned,' Lubo said; the twinkle in her blue eye reserved for Albus. 'Now, Albus, open the present your father and I purchased for you.'

Albus reached for the third and last present in his pile. It was a lumpy package that felt quite soft for something of its size. Albus was too impatient to hesitate with the unwrapping of the parcel. He tore the wrapping to shreds. Out fell a large silken robe with vertical stripes of light green and scarlet. Albus knew at once what he had been given.

'The uniform of the Caerphilly Catapults!' he cried. 'This is … oh; thank-you mother and father!' Albus gave his lean mother a tight hug.

Aberforth and Mars watched; eyes green with envy, as Albus dressed in the handsome Catapults uniform. Although the scarlet and green stripes did not match Albus' blue eyes or auburn hair, he could see in his bedroom mirror that he looked quite dashing as a Caerphilly Catapult. He stood with his hands on his hips in front of the mirror, imagining himself on the Quidditch pitches of the League, making Welsh hearts skip for joy at the performances of their young champion.

'I have one more thing to give you,' Archaeon added once Albus had finished appraising himself in the mirror. 'Something I found in Egypt that I thought you might find … useful this year.'

Archaeon placed a small square box of wood on Albus' open palms. He opened the box and saw a small locket fashioned in the shape of an eye. In the classic Egyptian manner, the eye was framed by heavy black lines. A thick black eyebrow ran over the top, and underneath the eye a black line looped downwards in a single curl. A darker black arrow ran vertically in front of the curl.

'In Egyptian myth,' Archaeon began, not allowing Albus to express any gratitude for the gift, 'the solar falcon god Horus did battle with the sun eating serpent god Set. During that battle, Set tore out Horus' left eye. This left eye is the symbol of the lunar cycle, as the eye of the moon is torn from the sky once a month. The left eye rules intuition and magic. Healing and protective power lies within this locket.'

'Thank you,' Albus said, burying his face in Archaeon's great chest and doing his best to wrap his arms around his father. He did not really know why he needed healing or protection, but he supposed that the recent encounter with Imhotep and the dark powers of Professors Black and Fudge had Archaeon worried. He guessed that Archaeon wanted to make sure that Albus did not have to keep making Protective Potions for his own self-defense.

'Now that Albus has opened his presents, boys, we need to get moving,' Lubo said. The Hogwarts Express leaves at eleven; so I suggest we all descend to breakfast and prepare ourselves for farewells and train journeys.'

But apparently Albus was not done receiving presents. Fawkes fluttered over and landed on Albus' shoulder, crooning gently. He held out an object in one of his claws. Albus reached up and took it from the phoenix. To his surprise, he discovered that it was a perfectly round crystal ball, although much smaller than the ones used by Seers.

'Thank you, Fawkes, but why would I need a crystal ball?' Albus said over his shoulder.

'It is not a crystal ball,' Archaeon said. Albus' father was eyeing the glass orb with a furrowed brow and a look of some consternation. 'In fact, I cannot say what it is. I think I should take it and examine it before …'

'Oh no, father,' Albus protested. 'Do let me keep it! Fawkes would never give me something that is dangerous.'

'I have no doubt,' Archaeon said, wresting the orb from Albus' grasp. 'However, I shall examine it thoroughly and send it to you via owl post once I am satisfied with what it is.'

'I could just ask Fawkes to tell me,' Albus said. 'He can speak to me through his eyes, you know.'

But Fawkes had evaporated in a flash of flame. Archaeon patted Albus on the head and apparated from the room with Lubo, leaving a very puzzled boy behind him.

'Cheer up, mate,' Mars said, hopping down from his bed. 'You still have four other wonderful presents. Well, three, mine is not so wonderful …'

'The hour glass is just perfect, Mars,' Albus said, smiling to forget his disappointment at having Fawkes' crystal ball taken from him. 'Now let's breakfast, shall we?'

The boys raced each other to the Dumbledore dining hall, where Nibs had prepared a three-course breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages, toast, porridge and fruit topped off with rich chocolate cake to celebrate Albus' twelfth birthday. When the meal was complete, Albus' stomach felt ready to burst. He thanked Nibs, who squealed in delight at being spoken too, and proceeded upstairs to make sure that he had packed everything for a year at Hogwarts.

Albus stood over his trunk, mentally ticking off things on his list. School robes. Caerphilly Catapults Uniform. Gryffindor robes. School text-books. _A Better Way to Transfigure – _the book that had saved his life last year. _Guide to Magical Secret Keeping. _Quills, cauldrons and potions ingredients. Mars' hour-glass. The Eye of Horus locket. The stunning sapphire ankh from Egypt. Albus' treasured Cleansweep Two broom. And last, but certainly not least, was Albus' handsome twelve and a half inch willow wand with its unique phoenix feather and unicorn tail core.

'Come on, boys, its time to go,' Lubo called from the door. Albus closed his trunk and locked it with a flick of his wand. Mars, who had been searching high and low for all his belongings on Albus' bedroom floor, did the same. Lubo levitated their trunks and they were on their way. Even though the Dumbledores could have used Fawkes' ability to apparate with people holding on to his tail to travel to London, Archaeon insisted that they fly by broomstick to 'sample the fresh air', as he liked to put it.

With invisibility spells on, his hands on the smooth handle of his Cleansweep Two, and the cool Welsh breeze on his face, Albus felt terrific. He was newly twelve years old and headed back to his favourite place in the world.

At Kings Cross Station in London, having passed through the famous barrier at Platform 9¾, Archaeon and Lubo Dumbledore said farewell to their children and their guest.

'It has been lovely having you,' Lubo said, planting a kiss on Mars' cheek.

'Thank you for having me,' Mars said, eyes shining. He shook hands with Archaeon before hiding his embarrassment by making pretence of lugging his trunk on to the train.

'Keep out of trouble this year, dearest,' Lubo said to Albus. She kissed each of Albus' cheeks. 'I do not want you in Egyptian crypts fighting newly re-born dark wizards this year, do you hear me?'

'I will do my best,' Albus said, struggling to contain a grin.

'… no more reports that you have been digging a new tunnel out of Hogwarts,' Archaeon was busy lecturing Aberforth. 'Keep your nose clean this year; it is an important one in your education.'

Aberforth feigned a serious look as he shook his father's hand, kissed his mother goodbye and headed off with his trunk. Albus was left to say farewell to his father.

'You need to look after yourself this year,' Archaeon said, dropping to one knee so that he could look Albus in the eye. 'The consequences of what happened in Imhotep's Crypt a few months ago may yet affect you.'

'Consequences?' said Albus. 'What do you mean?'

'I do not want you to worry about anything,' Archaeon said, his eyes softening. 'You have a number of protective devices in your possession, namely the Eye of Horus, your ankh and your phoenix; not to mention that there are people at Hogwarts who will be looking out for you. But my warning remains: look after yourself.'

'Yes, sure, father,' Albus said. 'You should not worry about me. Worry about Aberforth.'

Archaeon laughed; a deep, throaty chuckle that Albus was particularly fond of. The Hogwarts' Express gave a loud hoot to signal that it was ready to leave. Albus gave Archaeon one last hug before hurrying to throw his trunk onto the train, which was already starting to move along the platform.

Once Albus had waved goodbye to his parents, he went off down the corridor in search of a compartment. He hoped that Mars would have already located some of the other Pirates. Sure enough, Mars was in a cabin crowded with three other boys.

'Albus!' the boys cried almost all at once. Albus hurried inside so that he could shake hands and renew his acquaintance with his roommates from Gryffindor. Edward Stephenson with his red hair, blue eyes and freckles had little to say, but stared at Albus with barely concealed awe. Edward was a muggle, the weakest wizard of the five and permanently amazed by Albus' ability. Alabastor Meadowes' blonde hair dangled over his brown eyes. He shook Albus' hand vigorously and started talking about his holidays, but was quickly silenced by the loud voice of William Potter. With lank, messy dark hair and a dashing smile, William was the best looking of the boys and also the most self-confident. He wrung Albus' hand and proceeded to offer a long discourse on his holidays. Albus stowed his trunk away under his seat and sat down to listen intently to William speaking.

'…my birthday was quite fantastic, actually,' William was jabbering, 'and my presents were simply smashing. My great grandfather said some Seer foretold that he was going to die this August, so he thought he would give me his most precious possession for my twelfth birthday.'

William paused, looking at the other four boys expectantly. When it became clear that he was waiting for someone to ask what the present was, Albus spoke up.

'What did you get?' he asked.

William grinned, his irrepressible grin; ran a hand through his hair and reached down to open his trunk. He pulled out a long, silky cloak that seemed to have hundreds of different colours woven into its predominantly black material.

'Merlin's beard,' Albus said. He was the only one to recognize the cloak for what it was, having read about them somewhere before. 'That is an invisibility cloak.'

'An invisibility cloak!' cried Mars and Alabastor together. Edward just sat with his mouth open.

'Yes,' William said proudly. He stood up and flung it over his head. In a trice, William had ceased to exist. Alabastor broke into spontaneous applause. Edward fell off his seat. Mars and Albus simply stared at the place where William presumably stood.

Suddenly Albus was being wrestled to the ground by an invisible opponent. Before he could work out where William's limbs were, Albus was lying on the ground unable to move.

'I have found Albus' weakness!' William whooped. He pulled the cloak off and grinned mightily at the other boys. The other three immediately insisted on having a turn under the cloak. Countless battles for physical supremacy soon followed, and much laughter went with it. But Albus had a strange sense that he was no longer the centre of attention, that the cloak, and William, were the flavour of the hour. Albus wondered why he cared, but somehow he felt gently offended that it was not he getting the attention. After all, had he not been the one to defeat a dark wizard just a few months ago and the one who had secured the House Championship for Gryffindor?

'So what happened to your great grandfather?' Albus asked, once energies had been exhausted and the boys were lying back in their seats, breathing heavily. 'Did he die in August like he was supposed to?'

'No,' William said, 'and he is really annoyed, too. He went to the Seer to complain, but the Seer had gone on "permanent leave" or something. He is not happy about it, but he can't get the cloak back because he has already given it to me.'

'That is so brilliant,' Alabastor said. 'Just think what we can do for Pirates pranks with that cloak!'

'Yes!' Mars and Edward erupted.

'I have already thought about that,' William said. Albus would have said that William's chest was puffing out as he began to expand on a dozen or so ideas he had come up with. Albus sat in the cabin feeling increasingly put out. He was angry with himself for wanting to deny William a much deserved moment in the sun, but was even angrier with himself for being so arrogant to presume that he should be the natural leader of the Pirates. Sure, he had founded the Pirates, but that was not enough to decree that he should be the leader at all times, was it?

The chatter of girls in the corridor announced the impending arrival of the other half of the Pirates; the five Gryffindor second year girls. William gave Albus a roguish wink and disappeared underneath the invisibility cloak.

'Hello boys!' cried Victoria, the first into the cabin. She was followed in turn by Maggie Weasley, Emily Jane Marchbanks with her curly blonde hair and grey eyes, brown-haired Elizabeth Figg and Annabel Bradshaw.

'Where is William?' asked Annabel, while the others exchanged greetings and found seats squeezed in between the boys.

Albus was on the verge of saying, 'he's somewhere in here, underneath an invisibility cloak', when Annabel suddenly started laughing and clutching her sides.

'Stop it!' she screeched. 'Stop tickling me! Who is that! It's a ghost! Someone help me!'

William whisked off the cloak and appeared in front of Annabel. She gave an even louder shriek and fainted.

'Oh, well done, William,' said Albus.

'How in the world did you manage that?' Emily asked. Victoria rushed down to Annabel's side, flapping her hands to air Annabel's face. William had gone pale and was unable to answer. It was no secret to the other Pirates that Annabel was William's favourite, and the sight of her fainting at one of his pranks shut him up pretty swiftly.

But in ten minutes Annabel had recovered and was listening as eagerly as the other girls while William expounded his plans for the Pirates that year. Albus rolled his eyes several times and took to staring out the compartment window, wishing for the Hogwarts castle to appear on the horizon. When it finally did, the sky had grown dark and William had finally stopped talking. The girls excused themselves back to their cabins to get into their school robes. The boys did the same, and by the time the train rolled to a stop, everyone's energy had returned and spirits were buoyant once more. Albus was glad to see the invisibility cloak put away and became slightly less irritated by William thereafter.

Instead of following the Keeper of Keys, Romulus Lupin, down to the lakeside, the new second years proceeded to the horseless carriages that would carry them up to the castle. Except that Edward did not take kindly to this new form of transportation.

'What are those things?' yelled Edward, covering his hands with his eyes. 'They are horrible!'

'What things?' William asked.

'Those dreadful horse creatures with wings!' cried Edward. 'I don't want to go on those carriages!' Edward turned and fled back to the Hogwarts Express, howling.

Albus stared at the space in front of the carriages. In the dark evening light he had not seen anything, but as he strained to focus, he could see winged horses standing in front of the carriages. The whites of their eyes looked positively terrifying, like the eyes of spirits floating in near darkness.

'I don't see anything,' William said.

'I do,' Albus said. 'Look in front of the carriages.'

William, Mars and Alabastor strained their eyes but eventually all three concluded that Albus and Edward must be sharing the same hallucination. That is, until the pale-eyed Professor Sinistra from the Astronomy Tower bore down on the boys. She was dragging Edward and his trunk along with her.

'There is one carriage left and if you are not on it, you will all miss the Sorting Feast,' Professor Sinistra snapped. 'There is no reason to be frightened of the thestrals. If you have seen death, you can see them, otherwise, not. Now get on the trains before I turn you into toads.'

The boys scampered onto the last carriage with their trunks and immediately the mysterious winged horses started galloping towards the gates of Hogwarts. Inside the cabin, the conversation turned to whom Edward and Albus had seen die.

'My little brother, of polio,' Edward said softly. 'He was four, and I was eight.'

Edward had to explain to the wizards what he meant by polio. All four were appalled that muggle healers were unable to solve a problem of such seeming simplicity. Eventually the others turned to Albus and he had to recollect the scene in Imhotep's Crypt when Imhotep had killed Professor Fudge and then raised him as an Inferi. William listened with such intent that by the time they clambered off in front of the front steps of Hogwarts castle, Albus was sorry that he had harboured resentment against William for owning an invisibility cloak.

At last the five boys joined the remainder of the school in the cavernous Great Hall, the ceiling of which displayed a magnificent pantheon of stars. They found their seats at the Gryffindor table with the other second years. Albus fielded greetings from a number of people as he walked to his seat, including Jenning Ranger and the other Ravenclaw second years.

Then it was time for the Sorting. Professor Leon Bones, the tawny haired and handsome teacher of Transfiguration, led the first years into the Great Hall. This prompted a round of chatter from the school, all due to the obvious conclusion that Professor Bones was the new Deputy Headmaster, now that Professor Fudge was dead. Professor Bones placed the aged hat of Godric Gryffindor on a seat, and stepped away to allow the hat to sing.

'The founders four gave me strength to see,

What every Hogwarts boy and girl might be,

And though I am old, tattered, worn and grey,

I can still achieve this hallowed task today.

It was Godric who was bold and brave,

In the face of danger he would never cave,

So if it is determination and courage you own,

Your place in Gryffindor will soon be known.

Crafty Salazar was a master of resourcefulness,

He was always first to win, last to second-guess,

So if you desire power, success and wealth,

Drink to the cup of Slytherin and its good health.

Gentle Helga was a friend and helper to all,

Always on hand whenever those in need did call,

So if you are of the inclination to be kind,

Let the principles of Hufflepuff be on your mind.

Brilliant Rowena had intelligent and nous,

Books and knowledge the foundation of her House,

So if you are gifted in mind and quick to learn,

Let Ravenclaw be the House for which you yearn.

The song is sung and the year will soon begin,

A year of champions and many a varied thing,

This old hat will sit and watch as time passes by,

For I always know which students will fly.'

There was a long pause at the end of the song before the school began to clap. It had been an unusual ending to the Sorting Hat song, and Albus almost felt cheated. It was as though the Hat ought to have sung another verse to wrap up the song, but apparently that was all it had to say.

'Silly hat must have run out of time to think up the song,' William joked. Albus sniggered with his friends, but his head continued to puzzle over the seemingly abrupt ending to the song while the Hat sorted the new first years.

Eventually the Sorting was complete, Professor Leon Bones removed the Hat and the chair, and Professor Prewett stepped up to the lectern to give her first address as new Headmistress of Hogwarts for the new year.

Professor Athene Prewett was an elderly witch with straight grey hair hanging down the back of her long black robes. She wore a monocle on her left eye, which gave her a very forbidding appearance. She looked every part the new Headmistress.

'Good evening, students of Hogwarts,' Professor Prewett said, gazing down at her attentive audience, 'and welcome to a new year. This marks a new age at Hogwarts, I hope. As your new Headmistress I intend to make some significant changes at this school. Most significantly, we have some major changes to the staff here. We lost our Caretaker, Wilfred Umbridge, over the summer holidays to resignation …'

The school erupted into a loud and strenuous cheer. Albus had his head rubbed vigorously by the other Pirates. It had been his idea to tell Peeves, the poltergeist that answered only to him and William, to badger the caretaker until he left the school for good. Obviously the poltergeist had been devilishly obedient.

'That is enough,' Professor Prewett said, silencing the school. A thin smile was in place on her lips. She had her own reasons for being glad of Umbridge's departure, not the least of which had been when the caretaker had hung the Gryffindor Seeker up by the ankles before a crucial Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match last year. Professor Prewett cleared her throat and continued, 'The new caretaker is Odrick Olsen. Also new to our staff is Professor Januar Solstice, who joins us from Archaeon Dumbledore's digs in Egypt to take up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now, given that I have become the Headmistress, I will no longer have the time or inclination to teach Charms or be in charge of Gryffindor …' A barrage of complaints from the Gryffindor table interrupted her, and Professor Prewett had to call for silence twice before continuing, 'so we welcome to the staff Professor Ryan Rolleston, who will teach Charms and take charge of Gryffindor. Professor Leon Bones has been promoted to Deputy Headmaster, as you may have gathered.'

Albus wanted to search the staff table for this new Professor Rolleston, to appraise the new Gryffindor Housemaster, but the importance of what Professor Prewett started to say distracted him.

'The Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year,' Professor Prewett said. 'Our foreign guests will not be arriving for a few weeks, to allow us time to settle into class routines before the big event. But it will impact heavily on the school schedule, and I must stress that the changes that have happened at Hogwarts have nearly cost us the hosting rights. With one of our staff dead, and the Headmaster leaving in mysterious circumstances, the foreign schools will be paying very close attention to how Hogwarts hosts the Tournament. I cannot stress enough how seriously I will be viewing misdemeanors at this school in the coming months. Anyone who breaks the rules will face very serious consequences, and I am not joking.'

The ten Gryffindor second years stared at one another with pale faces and sombre eyes. Professor Prewett had clearly been serious when she had threatened to put an end to their Pirates pranks at the end of the last school year.

The Sorting Feast passed in a blur of discussion over the multiple changes that had happened to Hogwarts in the few months since they had been gone. A new Housemaster, new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, new Charms teacher, new Caretaker, an upcoming international schools tournament and the likelihood that they could not misbehave in any way that year were enough to keep the Gryffindors talking throughout the meal.

By the time Albus had got up to his bed in the second year boys' bedroom, up in Gryffindor Tower, his head was spinning and he simply wanted to sink into his blankets. He saw that the house-elves had brought up his belongings, including Fawkes' stand, and the beautiful phoenix was preening himself next to his bed. Albus stroked him goodnight before flinging on his pajamas and leaping into bed.

Albus was asleep before any of the other four boys had undressed. It had been a long day with far too much to take in. He receded into the peace of his dreams, safely tucked in inside his favourite castle.

Author's Note – Thank you to my reviewers: Godfric Potter, arkingd, Shadow101, SammyStar, BovinePimp, blade13hjp, Tabitha78, Griffinkhan, Silent Reader, skittlelove, Celi, Sean, birds of morrigan, rahul, mthukral, Ambrosius Emrys, The Allknowing Tonks and Zesuit. Keep it up, and thanks for all the tips and encouragement. But please note; don't try and foreshadow events too often in your reviews. While it may be nice to speculate whether or not Albus will be school Champion, you are sometimes so wrong in your suggestions that it is almost funny. Plus, I'm not the sort of writer to reveal my secrets just because a reviewer wants me to!


	4. Classes Full of Embarrassment

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"No greater love has man than for the art of learning"

Chapter 4 – Classes Full of Embarrassment

The following morning at breakfast, Albus and the other Gryffindor second years got to meet their new housemaster for the first time. Professor Ryan Rolleston came around with the new timetables just as the second years were tucking into their bowls of porridge. He was a big, stocky man dressed in dashing crimson robes. The edge of his cloak was lined with gold embroidery. He had a mane of brown hair down his neck and a long, graying beard on his chest. Powerfully black eyes gazed down at the second years through half-moon spectacles. But perhaps his most distinctive feature was his eyebrows. They stuck out angrily, much like the eyebrows of an eagle owl. When he spoke, Professor Rolleston did so with a smooth, warm voice.

'I deduce from your size, being neither the smallest group of children in the House, nor taller than any other group, that you are the second years. Am I correct?'

Albus and a few of the others nodded. Most of the Pirates simply stared at Professor Rolleston, bewildered.

'Here are your timetables,' Professor Rolleston continued, unperturbed by the muted response he was getting from the students. 'I am your new Housemaster, Professor Rolleston, but I will be seeing you in Charms class this morning, so proper introductions can wait until then.'

Professor Rolleston placed ten scrolls on the table next to a bowl of pumpkin juice and proceeded on to the next group of Gryffindors. William and Alabastor exchanged looks and a few murmurings about how odd their new Housemaster looked, but Albus was already busy delving into his timetable.

'What a good start to the year!' Albus said. 'We have Charms first followed by Defense Against the Dark Arts.'

'Yes, but pity about double Potions this afternoon,' Victoria added. 'I never liked Professor Rookwood.'

'I only hope that Professor Rolleston is half as good as Professor Prewett was at teaching Charms,' Albus said, looking wistfully up at the staff table, where the elderly witch was stirring her tea with a spell from the tip of her wand.

'At least Professor Solstice should be better than Professor Fudge was,' Mars enthused. 'He worked with Albus' father in Egypt!'

The other Pirates immediately turned to Albus and demanded information on Professor Januar Solstice, but none was forthcoming because Professor Rolleston swooped by and informed them that it was time to head to class. The truth was, Albus knew very little about Professor Solstice. He had only encountered him twice, and one of those times had been when he and Mars had been eavesdropping on Januar's conversation with Archaeon.

The Gryffindor second years arrived at Charms armed with their spell-books. To their dismay, they saw the green robes of Slytherin adorning their imminent class mates.

'Oh, not the Slytherins,' William protested, a touch too loudly.

'Oh, yes, the Slytherins,' Noxious Black parroted back. He was leaning coolly against the wall, a bit displaced from the other nine Slytherins; who seemed, so far as Albus could see, to be eyeing Noxious a little cautiously. Even Noxious' erstwhile companions, Isabella Malfoy and Frederick Bode, were standing away from him.

Albus had the sudden compulsion to do something very brave and outgoing. He had thought about trying to get along better with the Slytherins throughout last year, and it had really been the influence of Noxious that had held him back.

Albus broke away from the Gryffindor first years, marched straight past Noxious and stopped in front of the other nine Slytherins.

'Hello chaps,' Albus said. 'I hope you all had a good summer.'

Albus gave them a smile, which three of the girls and one of the boys returned; and then he spun around and marched back to the other Gryffindors. Noxious gave an audible snort, but fortunately the arrival of Professor Rolleston preceded any possible flare-up between him and Albus.

'Good morning, second years,' Professor Rolleston said. 'Please enter the classroom so that we may begin.'

Once inside, the Gryffindors and Slytherins seated themselves on opposite sides of the room. Albus demonstrated the inclination to sit with the Slytherins, but he was getting increasingly strange looks from William, Alabastor and Victoria in particular, so he took a seat beside Mars instead. Professor Rolleston took up a position at the front of the class and began to speak.

'I am Professor Ryan Rolleston, and I will be teaching you Charms this year. Professor Prewett assured me that you are all proficient with the _Standard Book of Spells – Grade One, _and that some have even demonstrated aptitude for spells from the _Grade Two _text. Much as I trust our esteemed Headmistress, I would still like to see a demonstration of your respective abilities, so that I can figure out where I need to focus our attention. A proper grounding in charms work is essential for all other magical specialties. This is your most important subject. Now, when I point to you, please stand, declare your name and perform the charm I ask of you.'

Professor Rolleston pointed to the far end of the class, at one of the Slytherin girls. She had a thin face plastered with a permanently sad look, framed by a crop of almost ludicrously straight brown hair. She stood up nervously.

'M … M … Mary,' she said, '…Pilkington.'

'Very well, meme Mary Pilkington,' Professor Rolleston said, not unkindly, 'levitate the _Grade Seven Standard Book of Spells _on my desk.'

Mary Pilkington's face grew whiter than it already was. Albus found himself muttering _Wingardium leviosa _under his breath in the hope that it would help, but he knew she could not hear him. Apparently one of the Slytherins next to Mary did the same thing, because her face suddenly relaxed.

'_Wingardium leviosa,_' she said, pointing her wand with a swish and a flick at Professor Rolleston's desk. To her dismay, the legs of the desk suddenly lifted into the air. Everything that was on his desk, bottles of ink included, went tumbling to the ground with a smash and a bang as the desk tilted awkwardly. Mary Pilkington dropped her wand, and Professor Rolleston's desk dropped to the ground with a thud, its surface now cleared of everything that had been on it.

'Hmm, not entirely what I asked,' Professor Rolleston said, without a trace of anger in his tone. 'Next time I will ask you to concentrate more wholly on what you are attempting to levitate. Otherwise, that was good, Pilkington.'

Mary gave the girl next to her a surprised look. It soon emerged that Professor Rolleston was very patient. Despite the fact that nobody seemed to have practiced their Charms over the holidays, Professor Rolleston was entirely uncritical. He thanked everyone after they had completed their spell, offered a tip of advice in each case, and proceeded to the next student without making an example of anyone for being below standard. That is, until he reached Albus, the very last student in the class.

'Albus Dumbledore,' Albus said when his turn came to stand and declare his name.

'Ah, Dumbledore,' Professor Rolleston said. His dark eyes narrowed on Albus with interest. 'Please levitate this chair and make it sing.'

It was easily the most difficult request, but nobody in the class, not least of all Albus, doubted that he could do it, having performed a similar series of charms in the very first lesson of their first year.

'_Wingardium leviosa,' _incanted Albus. He raised the chair up with his wand, and said, '_Aria avis._'

The chair floated in the air, singing happily like a swallow, before Albus set the chair down on the ground again and put an end to its song.

'Several obvious mistakes,' Professor Rolleston said, addressing the rest of the class and not Albus. 'Because his wand is so powerful, and he has so much natural talent, Dumbledore can make things happen without actually performing the correct wand movement, or necessarily incanting the spell correctly. In order to improve, Dumbledore, you need to refine your technique. Only by proper mastery of the basics can you become a master of complex magic.'

Albus felt his cheeks burning and his eyes tingling. He could sense that every one of the Pirates was staring at him right now, but he did not want to meet their gaze. Instead, he stared at the floor, fighting the urge to cry. He had never been more humiliated by a teacher than by his new Housemaster. A powerful dislike was creeping through his bones. This Professor Rolleston had been unnecessarily mean, and had said that Albus was only good because he had a good wand and a bit of talent!

'That is the lesson for today,' Professor Rolleston concluded. 'You are not without remediation, and I can see that Professor Prewett taught you all well. Homework for tonight is to study the charms in Chapter One of your spell-book. I will be testing you on them at the start of the next lesson. You may go. Oh, and, Dumbledore, stay behind for a moment, I wish to speak to you.'

Albus had the urge to yell 'No!' and storm out, but equal to his anger was a desire not to have to face his classmates until his embarrassment had subsided. He continued to stare at the floor while the Gryffindors and Slytherins piled out the door. Professor Rolleston came to loom over Albus' desk.

'Professor Prewett tells me that you have been working from texts as advanced as _Grade Three and Four,_' Professor Rolleston said. He did not wait for an answer from Albus before continuing; 'now while this is admirable, I still maintain that you need to work on the basics like everyone else. So, for the time being, you will work from _Grade Two _like your classmates. Is that understood?'

'Yes, sir,' Albus muttered.

'I know you are wondering why,' Professor Rolleston went on. 'There is no mistaking the extent of your capabilities; I could see it in that one demonstration of your wand-work. But the true master knows the very basics of their craft. Do you see where I am coming from?'

'Yes sir.'

'No, I don't think you do,' Professor Rolleston said shrewdly. 'Alas, such is the nature of the schoolboy, too proud and resistant to the best intentions of their teachers. Go on, or you will be late for your next lesson.'

Without glancing at Professor Rolleston, Albus grabbed his school bag and hurried out of the classroom. Apart from the fact that he did not wish to be late for the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Albus also wanted to put as much distance between himself and Professor Rolleston. He did not like the new Gryffindor Housemaster at all.

'Blimey mate, Professor Rolleston sure gave you a hard time, didn't he?' William said as Albus took a seat beside him in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Alabastor leaned across the aisle and ventured a question.

'What did Professor Rolleston want with you after class?' he asked.

'Oh,' Albus said; his brain drawing a blank as he searched for a lie to use, '…er, nothing really. He just wants me to study from _Grade Two _like everyone else.'

'But that's appalling!' William protested loudly, slamming his fist on his desk. The Ravenclaws all jumped a mile in their seats (Slytherin had gone off to take Herbology with the Hufflepuffs). 'You are by a country mile the best in our year, how can he stop you from doing harder spells?'

'You should complain to Professor Prewett,' Alabastor declared confidently.

'What's this?' asked Jenning Ranger, sidling over from the Ravenclaw side of the class. Albus went purple. His embarrassment would be complete if the Ravenclaws got wind that Albus was being held back by his new Housemaster.

'Oh, nothing, Jenning,' Albus said swiftly, casting a quick dark glance at William and Alabastor to signal that they be quiet. 'We just don't really like our new Housemaster that much, that is all.'

Jenning nodded and returned to his seat looking crestfallen. He kept throwing sideways glances at Albus throughout the lesson. Albus would not realize it, but Jenning was worrying over whether their slender friendship had somehow failed to survive the summer.

'May I have your attention, please,' said a deep voice from the front of the class. The idle chatter in the room ceased, and all eyes turned to the front. There stood a black man in a white robe, with various necklaces and bracelets adorning his person. Professor Januar Solstice looked exactly as Albus remembered him from a brief glimpse in Egypt, except that his clothes looked totally out of place in an English wizarding school. Professor Solstice cleared his throat and said, 'greetings, second years. I am your new Master of Defense Against the Dark Arts. My name is Januar Solstice, but I believe custom dictates that you call me Professor Solstice.'

He beamed, his ivory teeth flashing white against his dark skin. Albus was, for a moment, reminded of the thestrals that drove the Hogwarts carriages, for Professor Solstice's eyes were fiercely white against his black face.

'You may or may not already know that I am an Archaeowizard,' Professor Solstice said. 'I have recently been involved in wizarding digs in Egypt, accompanying the great Archaeon Dumbledore, whose son, I believe, is sitting in this room. Hello, Albus.'

Albus went bright pink and, quite unsure what to do, gave Professor Solstice a tentative wave and said, 'hello.' He felt the heat of his classmates' eyes on his skin again. This was turning out to be a very embarrassing day.

'Now, gleaned from my background in Archaeowizardry,' Professor Solstice continued, 'not to mention my experiences across the world in facing the dark arts, I compiled a book, _Principles of Defeating the Dark Arts – A Historical Perspective. _This is the text that you were required to purchase according to your book-lists. Am I right in hoping that you all have it with you?'

Everyone reached into their bags and retrieved the heavy tome. It was leather-bound, with ancient Egyptian, Babylonian and Greek symbols painted on the front cover.

'Very good,' Professor Solstice said. 'You may all be wondering why we need to examine the history of defense against the Dark Arts, but it is vital to your development as witches and wizards. Knowing how ancient dark lords fought and how ancient wizards and witches defeated them is fundamental to your understanding of modern magic. After all, ancient magic is what led to modern magic, and in some ways, the differences are small.'

Professor Solstice paused in his speech to pick up a scepter on his desk. Albus gasped, and a few heads in the class turned. It was a long, twisted staff comprised of two intertwining snakes and ending in ruby eyes. It had belonged to Imhotep.

'This is the staff of a very ancient dark lord,' Professor Solstice said; hardly containing a smile at Albus' obvious recognition, 'the same dark wizard that Albus defeated in the crypts of Egypt just a few months ago. Now, you can all appreciate that Albus may have been a little lucky to have thought of transfiguring a feather into a phoenix; and even luckier that the charm worked and saved his life. But what Albus could not have known is that he was using the correct principle for defeating the Dark Arts. Can anyone think what this might be?'

Nearly everyone in the class was speechless. Even Albus did not really understand what Professor Solstice meant by the 'correct principle'. Jenning Ranger, normally the first to put his hand in the air, was strangely still.

'I will tell you,' Professor Solstice said. 'Imhotep was born of a dark and ancient evil, but the phoenix is born of a good and ancient force. Albus countered Imhotep's rise with a magical being that was effectively Imhotep's opposite. And that is the underlying principle for defeating all the Dark Arts – the use of the opposite magic.'

Albus nodded sagely, determined to understand what Professor Solstice was talking about even though it sounded very complicated for his young brain.

'This staff contained Imhotep's power, or vast amounts of it,' Professor Solstice continued. 'I am only showing you out of interest, I am actually going to use it to teach the seventh years …' (the class moaned loudly at this point) '… but I want to demonstrate how magic can be hidden in objects, because this is going to be an important theme in your second year lessons.'

Professor Solstice placed the staff on his table again and stepped back. He lifted up his wand and started muttering incantations over the staff. Within moments, blood was streaming out of the ruby red eyes of the snake head. It poured onto the ground and formed a gooey slop there. Jenning fainted. The girls shrieked and at least three climbed on to their chairs to avoid the blood. Albus, William and Alabastor were particularly curious, and leaned over their desks to watch, rapt, as the blood formed the shape of a head.

'Is that … is that Imhotep?' Albus said, recognizing the thin and skeletal face of the Egyptian dark wizard.

'A shadow of him,' Professor Solstice said. 'Later on I will destroy it, but I wish to show all the students in the other years as well.'

Professor Solstice performed the counter-curse that returned the blood back where it had come from. He set the staff down again, walked over to rejuvenate Jenning, and then addressed the class again.

'That was far more complicated magic than we will do this year,' he said, 'but a demonstration nonetheless of the power that can be contained within objects. That form of Imhotep could have materialized into something resembling a human had I not been in full control of it with my wand. It could easily have taken up its staff and started performing magic with it. While it would never be as powerful as Imhotep was himself, it remains a dangerous incantation. The lesson for today is: never trust a magical object. Great power can lie within, and unless you are prepared to defend yourself against it, you play a dangerous game by toying with Pandora's Box.'

Nobody knew what Pandora's Box was, so Professor Solstice declared that their homework was to read Chapter One of _Principles of Defeating the Dark Arts – A Historical Perspective, _which he said would explain what it was. Then he dismissed the class, and the Gryffindors trooped down to lunch.

'That was a brilliant lesson,' William exhaled.

'Absolutely,' Mars agreed, coming up alongside Albus, who was strangely subdued. Mars was the first to notice. He said, 'what is wrong with you, Albus?'

'I am not sure,' Albus said. 'The staff of Imhotep brought back some pretty awful memories, to tell you the truth. But I think I am more peeved by Professor Rolleston.'

'Still not over that, mate?' asked William. 'Tell you what, how about we come up with a Pirates prank to teach the old geezer a lesson. We can't have our new Housemaster treating the great Albus Dumbledore with disrespect!'

Albus flushed pink again, but grinned all the same. He forgot completely about Professor Prewett's stern instruction against bad behaviour from the night before. All he could think of presently was ways to get back at Professor Rolleston for making him feel stupid in front of the other second years.

'I think we may need your invisibility cloak soon,' Albus said, cackling wickedly. The other boys did the same, their laughter echoing down the halls as they made their way to lunch.

Author's Note: Ongoing thanks to my reviewers. Readers, please review. I welcome any feedback, positive or negative, as I try to make this story increasingly good for all of you.


	5. Crossing The Line

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

Author's Note: Dear readers and fans alike, I am so sorry that it has taken me more than a month to update. I know that many of you would like to see more frequent updates and I feel like I have let you all down. I guess I just needed a break from all forms of writing. I write short stories and have been trying to write a novel for the last three years, not to mention my fan fictions. I guess I just got sick of it all and needed a break. Now, I hope to update for you at least once a week. I will do my best to be consistent from now on. Thanks to ant87 for telling me to get going again!

* * *

"There is a time to take risks, and a time to show caution. Know the difference"

Chapter 5 – Crossing the Line

The Pirates spent every spare moment the rest of the day planning their prank on Professor Rolleston. Once the five girls were included, the scope of the plan broadened so as to cover more than just Albus' desire to make a point to Professor Rolleston. As Victoria pointed out, 'This will be our first prank back at Hogwarts so we have to make an entrance.'

And so the prank became known as "The-Pirates'-Welcome-Back-to-Hogwarts and Get-Hog-washed-Professor-Rolleston Prank", as William coined it. The Gryffindor second years gathered around in their favourite corner of the common room after dinner; lying on their stomachs in a wide circle. Albus held a quill over a scroll, upon which he was scribbling down ideas as they were brought up.

'So read out what we have got down so far,' Emily asked.

'Alright,' Albus said, his eyes squinting, the better to read his scroll. 'William wants us to use his invisibility cloak to get around Hogwarts tonight to set up the prank. Victoria learned some voodoo magic in Kenya that we can perform on the door to the Charms classroom so that anybody who enters the class temporarily forgets everything they know when they go in. I can use a spell from the book Aberforth gave me, _A Guide to Magical Secret Keeping, _to hide the key that we lock Professor Rolleston's office door with, so he won't be able to open it and he will never be able to find the key. We will hide the key in the portraits, using the spell from my book. And last but not least, I will instruct Peeves to blow raspberries behind Professor Rolleston's head all day tomorrow without end.'

The girls had to contain their fits of giggles so as not to attract the attention of everyone else in the Gryffindor common room. William was grinning from ear to boyish ear, whilst Mars, Alabastor and Edward wore moon-sized eyes.

'Is there anything else we can do?' Albus asked, more to himself than to the others. As if on cue, Fawkes alighted on his shoulder. The majestic phoenix was crooning softly, but it was not his usual melodic tune. It seemed to grate on Albus' ears, like the high-pitched voice of Professor Cassandra Trelawney, or the sound of chalk on blackboard. Albus turned his head as far as his neck would allow, his eyes coming to a stop right in front of Fawkes' beak. He said, 'is something wrong?'

Fawkes stared into Albus' blue eyes with his own. Albus was mesmerized by them. They seemed to change from green to orange to grey; from purple to red to black, without order or seeming purpose. But the changing colours seemed to strike deep into Albus' eyes, conveying the message that the phoenix wanted him to hear.

When at last Fawkes vanished in a wisp of smoke, Albus was left staring into nothingness. His heart seemed to have stopped beating, and his breath was stalled in his throat. After a few curious moments, William above all the others could take it no longer.

'For Merlin's sake, Albus Wulfric Brian Percival Dumbledore, tell us what Fawkes had to say!' said William. His curiosity seemed ready to burst out of the seams of his evening robes, the soft crimson ones every Gryffindor wore whilst studying in the common room.

'It's Albus Percival Wulfric Brian,' Albus said, still staring dispassionately at the wall.

'I think he's gone corkers,' Alabastor said after another moment's silence. 'We might just have to do these pranks by ourselves. Someone take the scroll out of the mental one's hands and we shall get on with it alone.'

'No,' Albus said. He turned his blue eyes on his friends. Victoria thought he had aged a hundred years in a moment. His eyes seemed tired, lined with worry and the regrets of an old man.

'What is it, Albus?' Victoria asked. 'You look as though … as though Fawkes just told you that someone died.'

'In a sense, he did,' Albus said. 'He told me that Professor Trelawney has just had a very real premonition that someone significant will die this year.' He regretted exhaling the words the moment he did, because all nine the other Pirates jumped in the seats of their pants. They exchanged frantic looks and within moments were speculating vocally amongst one another.

'I knew it from the moment I saw him,' William was expounding to anyone who would listen to his loud voice, 'that Professor Rolleston is a murderer. He has designs on the Headmastership, and I wouldn't be surprised if Professor Prewett is his target.'

'Will you please be quiet?' Albus suddenly thundered. It was as though a lantern in his head had suddenly flickered on and clarity was restored to his thought. 'Keep your voices down, for the love of galleons! We do not want the rest of Gryffindor knowing what Fawkes tells me! Part of the privilege of owning a phoenix is; knowing to keep a lid on the secrets it gives us access to. Besides, the Tri-Wizard Tournament is on this year so someone probably will die. What is more important is what else Fawkes had to say to me.'

This was followed by cries of 'what?' and 'tell us, Albus!'

'Fawkes said two more things to me,' Albus said. 'He told me that there is more to Professor Rolleston than meets the eye…'

'I knew it!' William said, slamming a fist into the palm of his other hand. He was silenced by the icy look Annabel gave him.

'… and he also said that we should not …' Albus' voice trailed away. He could not bring himself to say the words, even though the eyes of his audience were imploring him to do so. What Fawkes had told Albus was this: _do not go forth with your acts of piracy this evening; for great is the power of your opponents and greater their wrath when you are exposed. Lest you forget, Archaeon beseeched you to keep your head down this year._

Albus knew that Fawkes was right. He knew that he was risking everything by leading the Pirates in this bold series of pranks. He also could hear Archaeon's booming voice telling him to look after himself this year. But sounding equally loudly in Albus' young ears was his pride, telling him that Professor Rolleston had crossed the line by humiliating him in the classroom that day. Albus also felt a duty to his friends. He was their natural leader, and in a sense, their hero. To back out of a plan as audacious as the "The-Pirates'-Welcome-Back-to-Hogwarts and Get-Hog-washed-Professor-Rolleston Prank" would hurt all nine of their feelings, and leave them peeved with Albus for some time.

The decision Albus made was a simple one, yet tore a very large hole inside his chest. He conjured a lie to tell his friends.

'… ah, Fawkes said we should not … we should not forget to … to … swap the inside of Professor Rolleston's office with the inside of Greenhouse One.'

William burst out clapping and the girls were all giggles once more. It was indeed a brilliant idea, one that any Pirate in the history of piracy would be immensely proud of. Albus could hardly believe that he had come up with such an insanely wicked idea at the drop of a witch's hat, but he had just deferred all credit to his phoenix. So he had to listen guiltily as William and Alabastor loudly sang Fawkes' praises.

Only Victoria seemed unsettled by this latest addition to their list of pranks for the evening.

'Just how, Albus, do you expect us to do that?' she asked.

'Easy, of course,' William interrupted loudly. 'We get Fawkes to help us; you know that he apparates from one place to another with a human attached to its tail! All we need is for that human to be holding on to Professor Rolleston's desk.'

'No, Fawkes won't help us,' Albus said glumly. William looked put out. Albus continued, 'we will just have to levitate Professor Rolleston's desk and hope that we don't come across the new caretaker, what is his name, Odrick Olsen, while we are doing it.'

The ten Pirates sat in a wary circle, thinking about the implications of being caught trying to enact their very first prank of the new year at Hogwarts. Finally it was Emily Marchbanks who called order.

'I don't know about the rest of you,' Emily said, 'but I have homework to do. How about we meet in the common room at midnight, once everyone else has gone to bed, and we can get started on the pranks then.'

'Good idea,' Albus said softly. He was regretting this whole business with every second that passed. 'You chaps do homework. I'm … I'm a little tired. I think I will get some early sleep in so that I am sharp and alert when we do it.'

Albus left the other nine in their corner of the common room and went up to the dormitory. He had no intention of going to sleep. He was going to sit on the windowsill behind his bed, fingering the Eye of Horus and the sapphire ankh whilst looking out across the still, moonlit Hogwarts landscape. Albus was scared, and spent the furtive hours of waiting for midnight hoping; desperately hoping that some trace of luck stored inside the Eye or the ankh would seep into his veins and spare him from the misfortune that surely awaited him.

And all the while Albus panicked over a single thought: if listening to Fawkes has never brought me harm, then what is going to happen to me when I don't listen to him?

Shortly before midnight the other second year boys crept up to the windowsill to tap a dozing Albus on the shoulder. They explained that the hour was up, and the common room was empty. The girls were waiting for them downstairs.

Albus's limbs creaked like an old man as he clambered down from his perch. He picked up the copy of _A Guide to Magical Secret Keeping_ that Aberforth had given him. William was clutching the flowing silvery velvet invisibility cloak. All five boys were holding on to their wands as a religious muggle might clutch on to his or her crucifix. It was, after all, the witching hour, and even in the confines of Hogwarts it was easy to sense the chill that passed through the stony walls of the castle.

The nervous faces of the girls greeted them in the common room. They climbed through the portrait hole without saying a word to one another. When William tried to cast his invisibility cloak over their collective heads it became immediately apparent that ten kids would not fit underneath it. Audible panic arose from their lips.

'Hush,' Albus said. 'I have an idea. We will use the invisibility cloak to get from place to place in small groups. It will be William's job to take us around. He can take five of us to the Charms classroom, leave us there and come back for the other four. That way, nobody has to walk around the corridors uncovered.'

'Genius,' Mars whispered the thought that was on everyone's mind at that moment. 'That is pure genius, Albus.'

Albus allowed himself the slightest grin before grabbing William by the arm.

'Right, take me, Victoria, Alabastor, Mars and Emily to Charms,' Albus said. 'The rest of you wait in the shadows. William will come back for you in ten minutes.'

The envoy of six had to cluster very close to ensure that everyone was covered by the cloak. It was fortunate that none of the Gryffindor second years was particularly tall. Albus and Victoria were very close together for the duration of the five minutes it took to traverse a few tricky staircases and get to the Charms classroom, but it felt like five hours. Not only because Albus was nervous, but because he had never been confined in such a small space with Victoria for any length of time. It made him slightly dizzy, for some reason which he could not quite place.

When they arrived, William hurried off with the invisibility cloak and the five were left in full view of anyone who might choose to walk along the corridor at such an hour.

'What do we do?' Emily asked, turning straight to Albus for an answer.

'The cupboard,' Albus said, his eyes lighting on a broom cupboard a few dozen strides along from the Charms classroom door. 'We will hide in there until the others come.'

And hide they did. Once again the kids were crowded together, but this time Albus was squeezed between Alabastor's bony elbow and Mars' shoulder. This was not quite as pleasant as having Victoria's elbow in his side.

The slight shuffle of feet announced the arrival of William with the other four. Albus burst out of the cupboard, relieved to be getting some fresh air in his lungs.

'There you are,' William said, breathing audibly. 'We wondered where you had vanished to.'

'Alright, gather around everyone,' Albus said, pulling the Pirates into a circle. 'Here is my plan. William, Alabastor, Edward, Annabel and Emily are to take the invisibility cloak and start levitating some of Professor Rolleston's possessions downstairs and into Greenhouse One. You will have to be very cautious, because we do not know what Odrick Olsen's night habits are. If you see or hear someone coming, do not panic and drop everything, because then we will be in for it. Instead, put the things down gently and come quietly back up here to fetch us. We will all sneak back to Gryffindor and nobody will be the wiser. Have you five got that?'

'Yes,' they concurred, albeit with pale and harrowed faces.

'And by the way, William,' Albus continued, 'if you see Peeves, instruct him that Headmaster Dumbledore needs to see him urgently with the minimum of noise, _before _he goes berserk and screams the whole castle down.'

'Absolutely right,' William said, shuddering at the thought of Peeves turning their own worst enemy.

'In the meantime, Elizabeth and Maggie are going to be our lookouts,' Albus said. 'I need one of you to each end of this corridor. If you hear anyone coming, get back fast and let us know so that we can hide in the broom cupboard. We do not have an invisibility cloak, so we risk being seen by anybody. As for you, Victoria, you get to work your voodoo on the Charms classroom door while Mars and I figure out how to hide a key in one of the portraits. Once William and company have swapped Professor Rolleston's desk for a few of Professor Longbottom's mandrakes; we can lock his door, hide the key and return to Gryffindor.'

The same plan that had sounded so appetizingly good in the Gryffindor common room just hours earlier now sounded harder than the three tasks of the Tri-wizard Tournament put together. The ten Gryffindor Pirates exchanged silent looks of grim agreement that this was their fate and there was no way out of it, and then they parted ways.

William, Alabastor, Emily, Edward and Annabel made for the door to Professor Rolleston's office. A carefully cast _Alohamora _from Emily allowed them entry. A few moments inside followed, before they emerged with Professor Rolleston's crowded desk floating in mid-air in front of them. All five had their wands out, determined looks on their faces as they endeavoured to keep it stable. William pulled the invisibility cloak over their heads and they were gone. It made a strange sight; a desk floating in mid-air along the corridor.

In the meantime Victoria had set herself up in front of the Charms classroom door. Albus spent a few minutes watching her with interest. She enchanted a small fire on the floor in front of her, and was consulting chicken bones and rat intestines. She had used ochre paint to adorn the Charms door, and was murmuring oaths under her breath. Elizabeth and Maggie were standing at either end of the corridor, keeping an eye out.

'Albus,' Mars said, tugging on his sleeve. 'We do not have much time. Open up your book and let's work out how to hide this key.'

'Oh, of course, the key,' Albus said. He tore his eyes away from Victoria's voodoo and produced both the textbook and an old key. 'I stole this from the Caretaker's office last year, when old Umbridge was torturing me. It looked like a generic key so I thought it might be useful. Let's see if it fits Professor Rolleston's office door.'

When the key magically turned in the lock, Mars was ecstatic.

'Why didn't you tell us about this key last year?' Mars said. 'Just think of the places we could have gone with it!'

'We did not have an invisibility cloak, remember,' Albus cautioned. 'Besides, I did not even think of it. I have a collection of about fifty different things hidden behind that rusty old portrait frame behind my bed. Most of those things I will never use, but I collect them in case they come in handy.'

'You never cease to amaze;' Mars said, slack-jawed.

Albus flipped open _A Guide to Magical Secret Keeping _and searched for the chapter on hiding things inside portraits. He had not gotten further than the first line; '_The art of hiding items within the frames of portraits is one very few magicians use for the guardianship of their secrets, but it happens to be one of the moste effective';_ when an almighty crash sounded from somewhere a few floors below them.

'Oh no,' Albus mouthed. The sound of pottles of ink and heavy volumes of leather-bound books clattering down a marble staircase told him everything he dreaded to know.

'Quick! Quick!' hissed Maggie, charging down the corridor like a red-maned lion on attack. 'Someone's coming!'

At the same time Elizabeth was hastening down the corridor from the other way, panic in her eyes.

Victoria extinguished her magical fire but barely had time to pick up her chicken bones, and Albus barely had time to slam shut his book and shove the key in his pocket, when three towering figures bore down upon them from different directions.

It was Professors Prewett, Bones and Rolleston.

Professor Prewett's voice was icy cold, like the look of frozen contempt etched on her aged face.

'Get to my office,' she said, 'now.'

Ten very pale, very frightened Gryffindor second years crowded into the Headmistress's office a few minutes later. Odrick Olsen had located the other five after the table had gone smashing down a flight of stairs, and brought them to the office at once. Professors Bones and Rolleston each took a seat on either side of the group of kids, whilst Professor Prewett adopted a position of terrifying authority behind her desk. Her bad eye was glaring through the lens of her monocle; anger radiating from her pupil with the force of a _Cruciatus _curse. Albus felt like he was undergoing the effects of the curse at that very moment.

'Will someone please explain to me,' Professor Prewett began in a dangerously low tone, 'what ten Gryffindors are doing raiding a teacher's office, skulking around under invisibility cloaks, performing illegal voodoo magic on a classroom door and trying to perform mischievous magic on a key with the intent of presumably locking a door and hiding the key?'

Nobody had the nerve or the willpower to answer her, so Professor Prewett snorted and went on.

'As a matter of fact, I do not need an explanation,' she said. 'This is yet another attempt by the organization known as the Pirates to undermine the authority of Hogwarts. Need I remind you what I said only one night ago? We are playing host to an international tournament this year, and after the death of our Deputy Headmaster and strange retirement of our Headmaster, all eyes will be on us to restore our school's dignity! Did I not make it forbiddingly clear that I expected behaviour to be of the highest standard? I have a right mind to expel the lot of you immediately.'

On hearing this Albus could stand it no longer. This was his fault, and he knew that he had to take the fall for it.

'Please, Professor,' Albus croaked, stepping forward and incurring a venomous look from the Headmistress for daring to interrupt her, 'this is my fault, not theirs. It was my idea, it always is.'

Professor Prewett's gaze had hardened, and he sensed that he had not yet convinced her. He could feel the sympathetic gaze of his nine friends on his back, all grateful that he was trying to take the blame that each knew rested on their shoulders too. But none were bold enough to risk expulsion by stepping forward to join Albus. Where he had an uncanny knack for avoiding expulsion, none of the other nine felt as confident.

Albus gulped. He knew that the truth was the only thing that could save them all. His eyes burned, and he desperately avoided Professor Rolleston's gaze as he unleashed the truth.

'Professor, it was my idea because Professor Rolleston embarrassed me in class today,' Albus said. There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. 'He said I am not good enough to work from _Grade Four _of _The Standard Book of Spells_ and need to go back to _Grade Two_ like everyone else. He made me feel stupid … so I wanted to get revenge. I … I pulled the others into it.'

There was a moment of startling silence while Professor Prewett brewed on Albus' words.

'That is quite the most pathetic thing I have heard from a Hogwarts student in all my forty years in this place,' Professor Prewett snapped. 'You should be ashamed of yourself, Dumbledore. As for the rest of you, you are not going to get away with this. Four hundred points will be removed from Gryffindor. As of now, Gryffindor's points tally stands at negative three hundred and eighty. Your House will have to work all year to erase the results of your foolish behavior. Get out of my office, the lot of you.'

Albus made a move for the door after his colleagues, but a sharp bark from Professor Prewett stopped him in his tracks.

'I am not finished with you,' Professor Prewett said. 'You have disgusted me. For someone as talented and intelligent as you, recently the hero of the school for exposing a criminal and saving the magical world from a dark sorcerer, how could you possibly think of doing such a stupid thing?'

Albus was unable to answer. Tears were brimming underneath his eyelids and his body felt like caving in. He had never felt worse.

Professor Prewett clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth when he did not answer.

'I will be writing to your father about this,' she said. 'You are on your last warning for expulsion. One step out of line for the rest of the year and you will be out, I kid you not. And Ryan, what say you? Do you think he deserves a semester of nightly detentions with you in your office?'

'I think he does,' Professor Rolleston said, eyes hardening on Albus.

'Accompany him to Gryffindor Tower,' Professor Prewett snapped. 'I do not trust him to walk the corridors alone.'

Albus left Professors Prewett and Bones to simmer in the office, followed by Professor Rolleston. He walked the corridors with barely a flicker of hope in his soul. His legs dragged along the stony floors like lead anchors. He kept his head down and had to work hard to stifle the sobs that wanted to break out of him.

When they arrived at the portrait hole, Professor Rolleston crouched down in front of Albus and took hold of his shoulder. Albus could not bring himself to look up at the man who surely hated him now that the truth had been revealed.

'Albus; look at me,' Professor Rolleston said. Albus let his eyes drift slowly up to meet Rolleston's. They were dark, and stared at Albus over his half-moon spectacles. He said, 'While I cannot condone what you did, the loss of four hundred points from Gryffindor is going to be punishment enough for you. The rest of the House will make you and your second year friends suffer for the rest of the year because of it. So your detentions with me will be nothing more than homework sessions. But do not take Professor Prewett's warning lightly. One more misdemeanor and she will expel you.'

Albus gulped but there was nothing to swallow.

'And Albus,' Professor Rolleston said, kindness radiating from his eyes now, 'I never meant to embarrass you. I realized at once that you are a remarkable student, and I only wanted to cultivate that talent, not stifle it. I never once thought you would be angry with me for doing so.'

That was the worst thing; as Albus slunk past his room-mates without answering their questions, climbed into bed, and pulled his curtains closed behind him; that it had all been for Albus' own foolish pride, and misguided pride at that. Albus had acted like a clown fool because he'd thought that Professor Rolleston had it in for him.

Albus cried himself to sleep. Not because he had incurred the loss of four hundred points for Gryffindor and a term of homework sessions with Professor Rolleston. Not because he had been threatened with expulsion if he set one foot wrong again. But because Albus had just learned the hardest and best lesson of his young life:

_Never react without knowing the facts_. And boy did Albus wish he could wind back the hands of time and correct the previous twelve hours.

* * *

Author's Note: Hope you all liked that; and as I said before, I will do my best to update with greater regularity. Thank you to the kind reviewer who reminded me that you are all waiting for updates from my true fan-fictions. Without you I would not have written this chapter. Everyone needs a kick in the backside from time to time, just like Albus, and not least of all me. Until next time! 


	6. A Hogwarts' Welcome

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this work of fan fiction is based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

* * *

"Even in the deepest darkness the eyes seek out the light"

Chapter 6 – A Hogwarts' Welcome

A beam of warm August sunlight pealed through the gap in the curtains of the bed and struck Albus lightly on the cheek. His eyes fluttered for a moment and opened. He had been dreaming about a beam of light. It had warmed him, warmed him to the soul in the same way that a bowl of steaming melted chocolate could stir a boy's appetite. The beam of light had been calling to him. How it did so; Albus could not remember. It had been neither a voice nor a song, but more like an urging. It was hard to place, and the shock of waking up made Albus forget the dream within seconds.

'Oh no,' Albus said. 'Oh no.' He sat up in a blind panic, momentarily lost for bearings. He blinked away the sleep and then collapsed back against his pillow. His chest felt constricted as if a python were holding him down. The memory of last night had come flooding back and now he felt like performing a vanishing spell on himself.

Gryffindor had lost four hundred points last night on account of him, and he had been sentenced to a term of nightly detentions with Professor Rolleston; who surely thought Albus an idiot after he had admitted that the whole affair had been about revenge for a petty classroom embarrassment.

Albus took several minutes to summon the courage to open his bed-curtains. He discovered the other four second year boys sitting on the edges of their beds, looking as pale and mortified as he did. Edward looked woebegone. He appeared to have cried himself to sleep last night. Mars' green eyes were rheumy and he was ghostly pale. William was clutching the sheets of his bed so that the bones of his knuckles showed. Not once did he run his hands through his hair. Alabastor's head was in his hands, his fingers pulling at the blonde strands of his hair.

'We are doomed, aren't we Albus,' Mars managed to gasp.

'It was my fault,' Albus said. 'They'll kill me, not you.'

'Oh stop it,' Alabastor snapped, sitting up and turning his brown eyes on Albus. They were glowing like coals. 'It was very brave of you and all to take the blame for us last night in front of Professor Prewett, Bones and Rolleston, but you cannot suffer the burden of blame from the whole house as well. This was a Pirates prank. Not a Dumbledore prank; a Pirates prank. Accordingly, we shall all take the blame. Understood?'

It was the most forcible Alabastor had ever been. Usually leadership was a contest between William and Albus, but Alabastor Meadowes had long had a feisty streak about him. Albus sensed that Alabastor was past hiding behind Albus all the time and wanted to fight his own battles. He was strongly grateful for it; since he could not bear the prospect of being the sole pariah of Gryffindor House.

'Yes, understood,' Albus acquiesced simply. 'Last night I … I just couldn't let you get expelled.'

'I don't think Professor Prewett would ever have expelled ten Gryffindors in a night,' Alabastor said sharply. He looked Albus over and his tone mellowed. 'But thank you anyway, Albus.'

'Yes, thanks a galleon,' William said. His knuckles were no less white against his skin, but he seemed a little surer than when Albus had first looked at him this morning. 'What did Professor Prewett say to you after she sent us to bed?'

'She said … how disappointed she was,' Albus said, feeling his cheeks glow warm. 'She also made me have a term of detentions with Professor Rolleston.'

'Oh no,' exclaimed the other boys. Alabastor looked thunderstruck. 'I can't believe she would make you do that!'

Albus was too embarrassed to confess that Professor Rolleston had effectively proven that he did not have it in for Albus by saying that the detentions would be more like homework sessions. He did not want to admit that his act of vengeance had been completely misguided by his foolish pride.

'It is not the end of the world,' Albus said. 'Losing four hundred points for Gryffindor, however …'

'I think Professor Prewett is a hag,' Alabastor snarled, slamming his fist against the bedpost and then howling in pain. When he had composed himself, he grumbled, 'even Professor Whingeas never took that many points from us in one go.'

'I know; rotten, isn't she?' William said. 'It isn't like we did the prank right in front of the visiting schools and embarrassed Hogwarts forever now, did we?'

The boys started bickering about how unfair it was for Professor Prewett to have punished Gryffindor so badly for what, by the end of the conversation, had become a "pretty minor prank performed at a reasonable hour of the night with hardly any consequences of note".

They were interrupted by a loud and curt cough from the doorway. Standing framed in the entrance to the second year boys' bedroom was Thomas Jones. The sixth year House Quidditch Captain and family friend of the Dumbledores looked imposing. His shaggy blonde hair dangled over blue eyes that glittered with malice this morning.

'Negative three hundred and eighty,' he said, 'negative! Never in Hogwarts' history has a House had negative points. I would never have believed it in all my life that you were to blame for such a travesty Albus, if it weren't for the fact that every portrait in the entire school is currently talking about what you did last night.'

'What we did,' Alabastor said. He had tried to sound brave, but had managed only to released a piping squeak and gone a bright shade of beetle red.

'It is not something to be proud of,' Thomas snapped. 'The famous Pirates have gone and done it this time, done our House in for the whole Championship. There'll be no Quidditch this year, what with the Triwizard Tournament on, so there goes our chance of winning those points back. You "Pirates" have let Gryffindor sink to the bottom of the sea. I am disgusted by you.'

If Albus had been feeling any better thanks to the communion with his four friends, that feeling vanished with Thomas' words. He had always looked up to Thomas; and seeing the disappointment in Thomas' blue eyes made him feel dreadful.

'I … we …' Albus began, but he could not finish the sentence. He quailed under Thomas' dispassionate stare.

'I don't want to hear,' Thomas said. 'I'm only here to escort you to breakfast. The rest of the House will tear you to shreds if they get to you, so as a Prefect it is my responsibility to ensure that that doesn't happen.'

Mars and Edward turned moon eyes on Albus, but he was as terrified as they. The five boys slipped into their robes and followed Thomas down to the common room. As he had predicted, a clamour of students were barracking at the bottom of the stairwell. Thomas had to threaten to hex them with his wand to allow them to get through. Unfortunately for the boys, Thomas either was not good enough or, he did not have the inclination, to stop a few well-aimed hexes from hitting the mark. By the time they clambered out of the portrait hole; Mars had a fist-sized wart growing on his forehead, Edward had mouse-sized ears, Alabastor had a blood nose, William was dancing uncontrollably and Albus' whole body was itching. He had been hit by a _Pruris universalis _curse, a popular spell to make the target itch all over. The effects of the spell usually lasted for a day and were generally irreversible. Albus cursed his bad luck; he would be scratching himself like a monkey all day.

Thomas escorted them safely to the Great Hall, where he abandoned them. A mock cheer broke out on the Ravenclaw table as they walked past and the Hufflepuffs broke into applause; but it was the Slytherins who took the cake. They had somehow conjured banners praising the Pirates, and come up with a song.

'Hurray for the Gryffindor Pirates,

They made the old Prewey irate,

And Gryffindor went down the drain,

All their efforts will now be in vain,

So shout it out and make it loud,

Gryffie second years you do us proud,

You should be in Slytherin, oh yes,

Join Slytherin, we are the very best!'

By the time the boys reached the Gryffindor table the Hall resounded with laughter. They found the girls looking meek and small on the very end of the table and joined them. The other Gryffindors had put a gap of twenty seats between them and the second years. If that was not disgrace enough, even the new first years were throwing vituperations at the Pirates.

'It is the worst, isn't it?' Maggie said heavily. 'I had a tuft of hair pulled out by Juniper Gray, and Mary Livingstone set my robes on fire.'

The second years started sharing their stories of woe. Albus could barely listen to them; he was so busy scratching himself. That is, until an owl swooped down with an imperious red letter in its claws. The red letter fell into Albus' porridge bowl, but before he could make a move to pick it up, it tore itself open and started bellowing in Archaeon Dumbledore's most penetrative and commanding voice.

'Albus Dumbledore!' Archaeon's voice sounded across the Great Hall. 'When I gave you strict instructions to keep a low profile this year, I thought I was being quite clear. How is it, then, that you found the need to break a dozen school rules in one night, bring shame to your House and dishonour to your own family? I am disgusted by your behaviour and have nothing further to say to you.'

The letter burst into flame and vanished. A trickle of laughter ran across the Hall, but there was a general sense of disappointment that Albus had not got a more fervent telling-off. Albus was under no illusions, however. Archaeon's disappointment was more than evident. Albus wanted to melt into the floor, but first he had to deal with the itching that covered every square inch of his skin. And so he scratched, and scratched, and scratched for the rest of the day.

There was no doubt that this was the worst start to a day at Hogwarts in his time there, but Albus could not help but think that it was slightly better than the time when he had been estranged from the other Pirates. The wrath of Gryffindor might be upon them, the disdain of the whole school and his father's disappointment with Albus to boot, but at least he and his friends were in it together.

* * *

Or so Albus thought, until a few weeks went by. At first the Pirates stuck together like glue in response to the catcalls and taunts that followed them through the corridors, the icy rejection and nasty pranks from other Gryffindors and the obvious disapproval of their teachers. But it soon began to wear thin on their fragile confidence and their spirits began to flag. The pure-blooded girls, Victoria, Emily and Maggie started retreating to the library at every opportunity to hide their tear-streaked faces behind heavy tomes. Annabel, Elizabeth and Edward were more used to being excluded on the basis of their blood; and so, handled the constant pressure better. They were also at an advantage because none of the three stood out. They were able go about their business mostly unnoticed. As for Alabastor and William, they had too many quarrels with Albus for their liking. They eventually split off and spent their days slouching around the corridors and brooding in corners. Of the nine other Pirates, only Mars continued to keep Albus' company.

Albus was pleased to have Mars' friendship during the harrowing weeks after Professor Prewett punished them. He could spend hours in Mars' presence without having to say anything. Unfortunately for both of them, a large portion of Albus' evenings was spent in detention with Professor Rolleston. These were not unpleasant sessions; Professor Rolleston was usually nose-in-marking and left Albus to do his homework. But Albus felt lonely in the candle-lit Charms Master's office every evening. He longed for an end to the isolation of the second years. Slytherin might never grow tired of singing 'Hurray for the Gryffindor Pirates', and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff might never stop slapping Albus on the back when he walked past; of that he did not care. He just wanted Gryffindors to stop looking at him like he was a poisonous asp or, worse, a Dark Lord. And something Albus longed for was to regain the approval of his brother Aberforth. Since the disastrous Pirate prank, Aberforth had kept his distance from Albus and made excuses whenever his little brother attempted to talk to him.

About three weeks into the term, around about the time Mars and Albus confided in one another that they both would rather have been expelled than suffer the daily humiliation; Professor Prewett made an announcement in the Great Hall before dinner.

'If I may have your attention please,' Professor Prewett called from the lectern. Knives and forks that had been raised in anticipation of food appearing on the House tables were slowly placed back down. 'As you are all aware, Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year. Now it is my pleasure to announce that our esteemed guests will be arriving on Friday evening. In preparation for this important occasion, I invite our Caretaker, Mr. Odrick Olsen, to speak.'

The new Caretaker hobbled up to the lectern. Odrick Olsen wore a heavy grey coat over his knobbed back. He wore a long grey pony-tail and a dozen ear-rings. Rheumy red eyes peered out from under bushy grey eyebrows. When he spoke, his voice had a raspy quality.

'G'evenin' school,' Odrick said. 'We be havin' three days to be havin' the school smellin' of roses en shinin' likem mother o' pearls. Yer classes to be cancelled tomorrow en you be helping to clean high en low, do yem hear?'

There was an outpouring of vocal disapproval from the school. Professor Prewett swooped upon the lectern and transfigured in mid-air into a massive eagle owl. The handsome bird had feathers of every shade of golden-brown imaginable under the candlelight of the Great Hall. She let out a ferocious shriek that pierced the ears of everyone in the room. The impressive sight of the Headmistress perched on her lectern in the form of an eagle owl silenced the school in moments. Her yellow eyes peered around the room, shooting daggers at anyone who muttered so much as a murmur. When she was at last satisfied that she had everyone's attention again, she transfigured back into her human form.

'Mr. Olsen works extremely hard to maintain the high standards of cleanliness you enjoy at Hogwarts,' Professor Prewett said. 'Not to mention the house elves in residence. The least you can do in the light of the forthcoming arrival of our foreign guests is to play your part. Suits of armor need polishing. Portrait frames need dusting. Portraits need oiling. Glass needs washing. Corridor walls and floors need scrubbing, as do the toilets. Classrooms need tidying and Madam Cross needs assistance in the library to re-organize her catalogues. Mr Lupin needs help in the grounds. There is plenty to be done, and anyone complaining will find themselves doing twice their share of the work.'

A disgruntled silence enveloped the Great Hall. Odrick Olsen approached the lectern again.

'Slytherin'll be doin' the bottom three floors,' he said. 'Hufflepuff'll be doin' the top three floors. Ravenclaw'll be doing the library en the towers. Gryffindor'll be outside with Mr Lupin. En the lot of yem'll be cleanin' yer own houses.'

Professor Prewett summoned dinner, which appeared on the four House tables in an instant. The din in the Great Hall rose to its usual fervour as ladles scraped bowls, spoons tapped the edges of plates, jugs were set down and people exchanged general chatter over the fact that they had to clean the school tomorrow.

'It's not fair that we have to clean the school,' William was complaining to Alabastor. If there was one time of day when the second years were forced to sit together; it was dinner. Nobody else in Gryffindor wanted anything to do with them, and there was only so much space on a House table.

'I agree,' Alabastor growled. 'The ruddy house elves should do their job.'

'I expect they already do,' Emily sniped, with her characteristic Marchbank air. 'You just feel that it's beneath you to get your hands dirty.'

'Oh, that's rich,' Alabastor said, 'coming from a prim and proper pure blood like you.'

'You're pure blood too,' Emily said back, turning red about the ears, but the quarrel was not allowed to escalate. Professor Rolleston had seemingly materialized behind them. Albus would have sworn he had been at the staff table just an instant before.

'One would hope that in the light of how your House-mates are treating you,' Professor Rolleston said in his smooth voice; 'that the second years are not fighting amongst yourselves.'

'No sir,' Emily and Alabastor said.

'Good,' Professor Rolleston said. He was stroking the long grey beard in front of his chest. 'Now I take it that none of you know hard we Professors have been working to protect you chaps from the other Gryffindors these past weeks.'

This revelation was met with silence from the second years. Only Albus fully appreciated what this meant. He had been a little surprised that he and the others had endured little more than insults and the occasional harmless jinx, as opposed to some of the more brutal hexes that he had somehow expected.

'Needless to say,' Professor Rolleston continued, his black eyes lingering on Albus through his half-moon glasses, 'tomorrow is going to pose a problem with Gryffindor assisting Romulus Lupin in the grounds. You could easily fall victim to a well placed jinx or hex in the Forbidden Forest or somewhere else in the grounds. The solution is therefore very simple. Your job is to prepare the main entrance for our visitors. Mr Olsen will show you where to find the appropriate red carpet and Hogwarts banners; but I encourage you to use a little imagination and enhance the decorations somewhat. You Pirates have shown an aptitude for interesting spells in the past.'

'Excuse me Professor,' Albus said, just as Professor Rolleston made a move to walk away. 'Are you asking us to perform spells on the Entrance Hall, when Professor Prewett has strictly forbidden it from us?'

'No, as I recall,' Professor Rolleston said, 'she said you would be expelled if you broke any more school rules. Conjuring a wonderful welcome spectacular for out guests is quite the opposite. And,' here Professor Rolleston paused, looked around and made his voice louder so that other people on the Gryffindor table could hear him, 'should you do a good job of it, I will consider returning a large portion of the points that you lost the House.'

Professor Rolleston stalked away. His words did nothing but induce a fresh wave of hissing and derogatory comments from some of the other Gryffindors, but within a few minutes Thomas Jones had come wandering over to the second years with a look of passionate expectation.

'Listen, you lot,' Thomas said, 'whatever it is Professor Rolleston is prepared to give you points for, make sure you do it better than any Pirates prank you have ever come up with. We need these points.'

'Don't worry, Thomas,' Albus said firmly. 'We won't let you down this time.'

The other nine Pirates gave Albus quizzical looks. When Thomas had moved away again, William leaned in.

'What are you thinking of?' he asked.

'Why should we listen to Albus?' Alabastor intruded, before Albus could respond.

'Oh just shut up, Alabastor,' Victoria snarled, to Albus' great delight. 'Albus is the founder and leader of the Pirates, and the best wizard of all of us. Let him speak.'

Alabastor had the sense to look abashed, and Albus was free to talk.

'Alright, here is what I think we should do,' he said, his brain firing ideas like swiftly cast spells. It was refreshing to be thinking again after three weeks suppressing his natural tendencies. 'After school you all have to go to the library and research the best spells you can think of; flowers that bloom when people walk past, that sort of thing. I will use my time in Professor Rolleston's office to look through his most advanced Charms textbooks and see what I can come up with. We will meet up at eleven o'clock in the common room to put our ideas together, and then we will set everything up over the next three days.'

'Sounds like a plan,' Emily said. Everyone nodded in agreement, and for the first time in three weeks the second years felt like friends again, with a purpose in life beyond just surviving each day.

* * *

On Friday night the whole school gathered on the lawn in front of the Entrance Hall to await the arrival of their guests. The only suggestion that the second years had done anything was a red carpet leading from the grass up the stairs and through the great wooden doors. Professor Rolleston had given Albus one strange look but had otherwise said nothing to suggest that he was worried. He was too busy arranging Gryffindor into respectable rows and making sure that everyone was wearing their robes in the appropriate fashion. Every House had turned up looking their best, carrying banners, mascots enchanted to roar, hiss, scream or bark as was appropriate for the animal, and trying their very best to out-do the other Houses. Professors Prewett and Bones stood at the very front, shuffling their feet nervously and looking about in a random manner. It was as though both were looking for something to apparate out of thin air.

A hush drew over the school after someone called out, 'look; in the sky, above the mountains!' A dark black figure emerged out of the blue and grew steadily larger as it approached. It seemed to be moving and shifting and changing. Ripples crossed its surface as wind might run across a lake. It took Albus a full minute to realize that the dark black figure was actually thousands of bats. A minute later, and he realized that the bats were accompanying a group of witches and wizards on broomsticks. The closer they came, the more became apparent about them. They wore black robes, black boots and black witch hats. The girls among them had long, billowing blonde hair and the palest blue eyes. When they alighted on the lawn in front of Professors Prewett and Bones, Albus noticed that they were all pale, and all very tall.

'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is delighted to welcome the students of Moskva Academy,' Professor Prewett declared loudly, stepping forward to exchange a bear hug with the massive, shaggy Headmaster.

As if on cue, the first part of the Pirates' plan came into effect just as the Moskva Academy Headmaster stepped back. Peeves came hurtling through the air overhead, showering the guests with what looked like golden baubles. The curious Moskva Academy students started catching them. Every time they did so, the bauble would burst open and release something made of gold. Often it was a bird or a frog, but it would leap forth in a spray of gold and evaporate within minutes, leaving behind a trail of dazzling sparkles that hung around for moments. The Moskva Academy students were soon giggling and grinning at this wonderful gesture of welcome.

Before Professor Prewett could guide them up the red carpet to the Entrance Hall, however, the school noticed the appearance of a grey mist sweeping across the grass from the lake. The mist had sheen about it, as though light wanted to escape but was just caught in the act of departing it. Albus had to draw his robes around him. He shivered suddenly, uncontrollably, and felt his breath leave him. He looked around frantically, wondering if he was going mad. But his friends had gone deathly white and so had the rest of the school. Albus looked into the mist and saw that there were dark, robed figures swooping about in it. His lips mouthed the word Dementor, even though he could barely remember what it was.

'Expecto patronum!' called a voice from the mist. A bright light emerged from a wand. Albus watched, open-mouthed, as luminescent wolves started running around the mist chasing the Dementors and the mist away. It soon became clear that the mist had provided cover for the arrival of a group of students dressed in silver robes over red undergarments. These students were shorter than those of Moskva Academy, but were also predominantly blonde and blue eyes, with the exception of a few brown-haired boys with large noses. A man dressed in a very formal outfit that looked better suited for a muggle military parade than the Headmaster of a wizarding school, stepped forward to greet a shaken Professor Prewett.

'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry welcomes,' Professor Prewett said, her voice displaying her discomfort at what had just transpired with the mist and the Dementors, 'ahem, would like to welcome students from the Black Forest School of Magical Arts.'

Once again, Peeves swept down from the sky and showered the new arrivals with golden baubles. The students of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts were generally less impressed by the enchanted trinkets than the Moskva Academy kids, but a few exchanged excited glances and smiles.

Professor Prewett led the two parties along the red carpet. Slytherin and Gryffindor were on either side of the carpet, and both Houses tried to impress upon the guests their importance. But the Pirates had already planned for this moment. A flock of larks burst forth from their midst and hovered above Gryffindor, singing a heavenly tune. And if that were not enough, Fawkes appeared in a flash of flame at the top of the steps and started singing the tune that sounded like the voices of a thousand Welsh singers sounded against the walls of a valley, rising and falling like the waves of a troubled ocean. There was no hiding the genuine surprise and amazement of the Black Forest students this time, for none had ever seen or heard a phoenix before in their lives.

But the Pirates were not done. Although they were standing outside and were unable to see their plan come to life, they could hear the cries of wonder as the guests passed through the great wooden doors into the Entrance Hall. Enchanted banners of Hogwarts and the four Houses were dancing in the air like ancient Celtic witches around a fire. Fireworks were swirling around the circular walls of the Entrance Hall and soaring up into the rafters. The portraits, as Albus had asked them to do, were giving the guests a standing ovation from inside their frames, and the suits of armour were all bowing down in welcome. It was all fairly simple magic made to look elaborate, but it was highly effective.

As Hogwarts entered the Great Hall for dinner with their new guests, Professor Prewett excused herself from the two Headmasters and made a beeline for Albus and the other Gryffindor second years. She spoke loudly, so that people from a number of Houses could hear her.

'I am prouder than I have ever been of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,' she said, acting as though she was addressing everyone, but her eyes were focused on Albus and his friends. 'Those Pirates responsible for this extravaganza have the gratitude of our gracious guests. Two hundred and fifty points returned to Gryffindor.'

Albus turned and beamed at his friends, who beamed back. There was light in the darkness after all.

* * *

Author's Note – Please read and review! I know I disappointed a lot of you by taking so long to update, but don't forget that I am not a millionaire published author. I can only get better with your advice, and trust me; I value every single review that I get. I would love to get a negative review for a change so I can find something to work on!

Just out of interest, how many of you have read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy? I read it this week for the first time and absolutely loved it! I think it is brilliantly written, inventive; imaginative and above all, flows with a lucid and exciting plot. The characters are also memorable. I do recommend it for any Potter fan.


	7. The Goblet of Fire

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"We all have the capacity to dream, but who amongst us dares to make them happen?"

* * *

Chapter 7 – The Goblet of Fire

The Gryffindor second years enjoyed the best dinner they'd had at Hogwarts since the start of the school year. Professor Prewett had vocally returned two hundred and fifty of the four hundred points that they had lost the House; as a reward for the welcome that the Pirates had prepared for the two guest schools. As a result, their fellow Gryffindors were quite happy to sit next to them at the House table, and the frostiness of the preceding month had evaporated somewhat. A trio of first years was so impressed by the way that Fawkes had appeared out of thin air and sung a magnificent ode to the visitors; that they positioned themselves either side of Albus and were peppering him with questions.

'Is it true that that phoenix is yours?' asked a plump boy through a spray of half-chewed shepherd's pie. He had introduced himself as Gregory Rimmington, a muggle with scraggy black hair over a round face.

'Yes,' Albus said, modestly looking down at his plate.

'What did you have to do to get him?' asked a tiny little girl with a toothy smile. She was Mathilda Malkin, sister of the fifth year Gryffindor Beater Richard. Albus thought one could never have guessed it, seeing how small she was with a brother that filled a whole doorway when he walked through it.

'Oh, do tell us! I really want to know!' exclaimed the other first year. This was Allan Glastonbury, brother of Jonathan, the Seeker that Albus had replaced for the Gryffindor-Slytherin match last year. He was short and scrawny like Albus, with black hair and cool blue eyes. His face had a constant look of expectation upon it, so much so that he looked comic. Victoria, who was watching the conversation with interest across the table, suddenly choked in her bowl of pumpkin soup. She pretended to be coughing, but Albus sensed that she was laughing at the eager first year.

'I didn't do anything in particular,' Albus said. 'Fawkes seemed to choose me as his owner, as opposed to me choosing him.'

'You must be amazing…' Allan began. Mathilda and Gregory nodded their agreement, but Albus waved them away with his hand. It was not out of modesty; William had started a discussion about the visiting schools and Albus wanted to hear what everyone had to say about them.

'Those Black Forest lot look like dark wizards and witches, if ever I saw any,' William was saying; 'arriving with Dementors, with wolves as patronuses and a Headmaster who looks like he wants to join the muggle navy!'

'Not to mention that they are sitting with Slytherin,' Alabastor snorted. 'And the stupid Moskva Academy is sitting with Ravenclaw.'

'Didn't any of them see our larks, or Albus' phoenix?' Maggie wondered bitterly. Her cheeks grew almost as red as her bushy shock of hair as she spoke. 'Clearly Gryffindor is the best House, and they go and sit with those other idiots.'

'What do you make of their Headmaster, Albus?' William said, speaking past Maggie, who went scarlet and resorted to clanging her cutlery against her plate as she ate, offended by William's slight against her.

'I do not know,' Albus said, turning to stare at the hulking, shaggy haired Dr Vladimir Strovsky. Professor Prewett had introduced him to the school once everyone had been seated for dinner. He wore an entirely black outfit like his students, except that his collar was sharp and elegant against his bony white skin. Albus reasoned, 'his students look a reasonable sort, so I suppose they reflect well on him. He looks less imposing than Admiral Wolfgang Schultz of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts.'

'Magical Arts,' Alabastor chuckled. 'How about they just substitute Dark for Magical and you'd have the truth.'

'How can you say that?' Emily argued. 'They could be perfectly decent for all we know. Just because they are sitting with Slytherin, does not make them …'

Emily and Alabastor were surely headed for another argument, when Professor Prewett clanged a spoon against a glass and called a silence on the entire Great Hall. The Headmistress stepped up to the lectern and smiled at them all. Albus noticed for the first time that she was wearing black robes that glittered under the Great Hall candlelight. Normally Athene Prewett wore plain black robes. Her straight grey hair hung back over her shoulders as it always did, but she wore a golden pin on her black witch's hat. For an elderly lady she looked quite impressive. A tiny voice in Albus' head told him that it was the fact that he was no longer angry with her that allowed him to see her in a better light, but he ignored the thought.

'Good evening to one and all,' Professor Prewett said. 'To Admiral Wolfgang Schultz and the students of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts, I say welcome to Hogwarts with our arms wide open. This is your first appearance in the Triwizard Tournament in more than a century, and it is wonderful that you could take the place of the Crimean Magykoria after British War Wizards torched their halls of learning. It is not something I am proud of as a resident of this island, but this is not the place for me to espouse my personal views on politics.'

Most of the students in the Great Hall were exchanging confused looks by now. Admiral Scholtz was nodding in stern agreement with Professor Prewett's words. Albus had the faintest inkling of what she had been talking about; he had heard Archaeon discussing the magical Crimean War with one of his guests at a Dumbledore dinner party a year or two earlier. But it was Mars who seemed to know the most about it.

'My father had something to do with that,' Mars said. A dozen heads turned to look at him at once. 'The muggles are fighting a war with Crimea too, so the Ministry sent a wizarding army to join in the fight as well. It was hidden from muggle eyes, of course, but just as ferocious. We apparently won, but many lives were lost and in revenge; one of our side decided to burn down the school for magic in Crimea, the Magykoria.'

'That is simply revolting,' Victoria said. 'I could not believe that a British wizard would do such a vulgar thing.'

Mars had no time to argue the fact, because Professor Prewett had raised her voice to silence the chatter in the Great Hall.

'It is also my pleasure to welcome Dr Vladimir Strovsky and his Moskva Academy students,' Professor Prewett said. 'Moskva Academy has a proud heritage in the Triwizard Tournament. Students from Moskva have won three of the last seven Tournaments, and I am sure that one of your numbers will be highly competitive in this year's event, also.'

Dr Strovsky bared unnaturally large teeth in a smile. Alabastor wanted to make a derogatory comment but Professor Prewett had some exciting news which silenced him quickly.

'And now that our guests are here,' Professor Prewett said, 'we shall waste no time in getting proceedings underway. _Accio_ Goblet!'

The doors into the Great Hall flung open, sending a blast of cool evening air down the centre aisle and spilling at least a dozen jugs of pumpkin juice. A rather mangy wooden cup entered the room in a hurry, floating six feet above the floor. It stopped moving when Professor Prewett caught it in both hands and set it down on a raised dais in front of the staff table.

'This is the Goblet of Fire,' Professor Prewett said. 'In a moment I will be setting it alight, and the Tournament will be officially open. From that moment on, anyone who wishes to enter the Tournament can put their names on a piece of paper and throw the paper into the flames. You can be of any age to enter, but let me remind you that the Goblet selects the best witch or wizard from each school. A fourth year would be fooling themselves to believe that they had a chance; and anyone younger … well, don't be ridiculous. As you can see; our visiting schools only brought students of fifteen years and older.'

'Let me also stress,' Professor Prewett continued, waggling a bony finger at the school, 'that this is a deadly tournament. Death is an all too common occurrence in this event. The pursuit of eternal glory is something that can only be achieved by taking the ultimate risk. Much as we staff attempt to stave off disaster, we cannot guarantee that the Champions chosen by the Goblet will survive the three tasks. So do not enter this tournament lightly, for if you put your name in the Goblet and it chooses you, you have no way out.'

For some reason Professor Prewett's words sent a chill down Albus' spine. He was forcibly reminded of his excursion to Imhotep's Crypt at the end of his first year at Hogwarts, when his drugged father, the evil Professor Black and the backstabbing Professor Fudge had gone to raise Imhotep from the dead. That day Albus had felt like there was no way out, and that death was the only possible outcome. The Triwizard Tournament sounded a little too much like a visit to a Dark Lord's ancient crypt.

'You shall enter, won't you Albus?' asked Mars; green eyes alight.

'I am going to,' Alabastor said loftily, hoping to attract the attention of the other second years. A couple of first years seemed interested by him, but the other Pirates had their eyes on Albus.

'I do not know,' Albus said honestly.

'You have to!' William exclaimed. 'You are the best of us. If I had your talent, I would enter. In fact, I probably will enter it anyway. I am not afraid of a little death!'

'No he does not have to!' Victoria spat all of a sudden. Her outburst was so loud and so fervent that people sitting on the neighbouring table turned to look at her. She went beetroot red and chose to stumble from the room, attracting even more unwanted attention.

'What did I say?' William said, looking befuddled.

'You are a right idiot,' Annabel said, to William's obvious dismay. 'Victoria likes Albus, so if Albus enters a Tournament in which he could very probably die, she would herself die of worry. And if he did die, then she would be distraught for months, if not years. If he didn't die, but didn't win, she would be relieved beyond words but would not be able to express it to him. And if he won, only if he won, would she be truly happy.'

Albus, William, Mars, Alabastor and Edward all stared open-mouthed at Annabel. It was the most words she had ever spoken in a sitting, but it was the complexity of her thinking that had them flabbergasted.

'Girls belong in asylums,' Alabastor concluded confidently. 'That was utterly crazy.'

'Crazy, was it?' Emily snapped. 'I'll show you crazy …'

But while Emily and Alabastor started another round of quarrelling, Albus found his thoughts drifting away to a magical place where he was receiving the Triwizard Cup from Professor Prewett. Some unnamed witch in Moskva Academy's black robes and a wizard in the Black Forest School of Magical Arts' red and silver uniform were watching, their faces written with the disappointment of defeat. But one face in the crowd stood out. It was Victoria's, and she was smiling through tear-filled eyes, and laughing, and being _truly happy,_ as Annabel had put it, that Albus had won.

After that fantasy it was not difficult for Albus to make his decision. He was going to enter the Triwizard Tournament.

At the conclusion of dinner, when masses of students made their way back to their respective Houses for the completion of homework or attend meetings of their various club affiliations, Albus started up the staircase that led to Professor Rolleston's Charms classroom. He had, after all, yet another session of detention to attend. But he was stopped short by his ever-taller brother, Aberforth.

'Hold it, little brother,' Aberforth said, grabbing Albus by the hem of his robe. 'We have moste important brotherly issues to discuss.'

'Yes,' Albus said tersely. He was not quite ready to forgive Aberforth the discretion of keeping his distance these past weeks.

'Good job on winning those points back for Gryffindor, by the way,' Aberforth said, trying to sound conciliatory. 'I always knew you would win them back for us.' The way he scrunched up his eyes and the corners of his mouth made Albus laugh. The chill was broken and the brotherhood was whole again.

'Of course I was going to,' Albus said. 'Now what are these _moste important brotherly issues_? I cannot miss my detention with Professor Rolleston.'

'Two matters of import,' Aberforth said. 'Not the least of which, is how to make sure that a Dumbledore is School Champion. You and I should both enter, and I think we should jinx that silly cup so that it has to choose between you or me.'

'Oh no, no, no, no, no, no,' Albus said. He had to add a few more no's in for emphasis. 'No, no, no, we simply cannot do that. I simply cannot break any more school rules. Besides, that would be cheating.'

'It isn't cheating!' Aberforth protested. His face broke into a wicked grin. 'Well it is cheating, but everyone does it in the Triwizard Tournament.'

'I cannot do it,' Albus said.

'Very well,' Aberforth said, pulling his robe over his chest as if he were a regal vampire. 'I shall undertake to jinx the Goblet by myself. But seeing as I am your loving brother, I will leave it to the Goblet to decide which one of you or me is the Champion.'

'I doubt you can do it,' Albus said, a cynical look on his face. Aberforth was not renowned for his serious magical abilities.

'I am a master of mischief,' Aberforth reminded him. 'I shall find a way. In the meantime, you and I also need to pay a visit to the basement of the Hog's Head. We will need some celebratory drinks for when one of us is named Champion.'

'Is it your desire to see me expelled?' Albus wondered out loud. He was not entirely kidding.

'Of course it is,' Aberforth said, grinning from ear to ear. He bit his tongue in jest. 'No, little brother, I would never conspire to be rid of you. I enjoy being bigger and better than you too much.'

'Whatever makes you feel on top of the morning,' Albus said. 'Now I am late for my detention, because of your shenanigans.'

Albus started up the stairs again, and Aberforth called after him.

'Very well, it is settled,' he cried. 'Midnight tonight; we meet in the common room and Fawkes can take us.'

'Alright, alright,' Albus yelled back. 'Don't let the entire school know at the top of your voice, in case they all want to join us!'

Aberforth turned to address the portraits, who were listening in with greedy gossiping faces.

'Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore would like to announce that …'

The bat-bogey hex from Albus' wand hit Aberforth before he could say anything else. He started shrieking as enormous bats started crawling out of his nose. Albus allowed himself a minute to watch in fits of laughter, before he realized that he was getting dangerously late for his detention.

Professor Rolleston looked up from his desk with faint annoyance when Albus came bustling in, a full twenty minutes late, but did not question him.

'Have a seat, Dumbledore,' he said smoothly. 'We need to talk.'

'Yes, sir,' Albus said. He planted himself down on his usual classroom seat. Professor Rolleston strolled over and conjured a comfy sofa out of thin air in front of Albus' desk so that they were sitting face to face.

'It is your intention I presume, Mr Dumbledore, to enter this Tournament?'

'Erm … well, actually … yes, sir,' Albus managed.

'Did it not occur to you that Professor Prewett was being serious when she said that people die in this Tournament?' Professor Rolleston said.

'Yes, it did,' Albus replied. He realized that he would be mightily embarrassed if he revealed that his reason for entering was a girl. It sounded ridiculous that he, a twelve year old, should be out to win the charms of a girl. He realized that he needed to invent a reasonable sounding lie. His brain quickly settled on something. He said, 'I heard that Professor Trelawney predicted the death of someone significant this year. I … erm, I thought that if I entered … I could stop anyone at Hogwarts from dying, because none of them would be in the Tournament.'

Professor Rolleston looked genuinely taken aback. His normally placid black eyes now glittered like embers, and he was pulling hard at his grey beard.

'How did you find out what Cassandra …' Professor Rolleston began, but changed tack mid-sentence, '…never mind, it is not my place to know how you come about your knowledge. That is a very noble idea you have, Dumbledore, but I simply cannot let you put your young life on the line.'

'Sir, you seem to think that I only need put my name in the Goblet and I will be the Champion,' Albus said, having a wave of astute thinking. 'I mean, I am only twelve after all, so how could I possibly be picked by the Goblet?'

'Listen to me, Albus,' Professor Rolleston said, his voice dropping to a deep and sonorous note. 'Despite what Professor Prewett said about the Goblet considering age when it appoints Champions, the reality is that it uses natural talent as the primary consideration. I teach every single student at Hogwarts, and … you listen to me carefully now, boy, I am not saying this to flatter you, but to warn you. You are the most talented child at this school. You are probably the most talented child I have ever encountered.'

Albus blushed profusely. Here was the man he had tried to punish with a Pirates prank for embarrassing him in class; telling him that he was the most talented child he had ever seen. Rather than feel special, he felt ridiculous.

'I am being utterly serious with you, Dumbledore,' Professor Rolleston continued. 'If you put your name in that Goblet, I would bet a hundred galleons that you will be selected.'

Albus did not know what to say in response. A part of him wanted to leap for joy at the prospect of winning Victoria's admiration, but another part was struck cold by the thought that he could be putting himself in mortal danger if he disobeyed Professor Rolleston.

'Listen to me, Albus,' Professor Rolleston said. Albus started, for it was unusual to hear a teacher call him by his first name. 'Promise me that you will not enter this event. It may help you to know that the Triwizard Tournament will next be held when you are in your sixth year at Hogwarts. At that age you will be equipped with the right spells to not only survive, but win the Tournament. So, do not enter.'

'I … I …' Albus began, but he could not finish the sentence. He did not want to lie to Professor Rolleston, not after the man had been so nice to him.

'You need time to think about it, I think,' Professor Rolleston said. 'Go on, forget about these detentions. You won those points back from Professor Prewett. I think it is time we stopped with this "punishment". Go back to the House, and think about what I had to say.'

'Thank you, sir,' Albus said, happily gathering his schoolbooks and hurrying out the door. He knew that Professor Rolleston was right, but a girl called Victoria was floating around in his head.

* * *

The week passed by in a blur of doubts and conflicting battles between the various voices in Albus' head. He accompanied Aberforth on two excursions to the Hog's Head, fetching dozens of crates of butterbeer, Firewhisky and other treasures of the alcoholic kind; but Albus was hardly enthused by the adventure. He passed through classes, performing his charms and doing his homework with accuracy well beneath his usual standards. Even though the Pirates were back to being a happy and relatively united band of ten in the corridors of Hogwarts, Albus could not seem to settle on a happy mood. He spent the entire week debating the two sides of the argument.

For the negative were his conscience, and the voices of Archaeon Dumbledore and Professor Rolleston. His father had told him to keep a low profile that year, and to look after himself. Entering a dangerous and famous tournament like the Triwizard Tournament would be a direct contravention of his father's will. Not withstanding the Howler he had already got for his previous infraction. Professor Rolleston had also willed him not to do it, and Albus' own conscience told him that he would not be able to cope with the complicated spells that would be required to survive the Tournament.

But then there were the arguments in favour. Professor Rolleston had virtually confirmed that Albus would be picked as Champion if he put his name in the Goblet. A large part of Albus wanted the glory associated with it. He had almost single-handedly saved the wizarding world at the end of last year by defeating Imhotep, and not a single word had been written in the papers of his exploits. Archaeon had kept the story a secret, and even though the students of Hogwarts had learned about it, Albus figured that not many had really believed it. Albus wanted a chance to be a hero in everyone's eyes, not least of which was Victoria. He was starting to think of her almost incessantly, and whenever in her company, he often lost his words or started gabbling rubbish. It was as though he was reduced to being a clown in her presence, and it irritated him.

Finally the duel of wills became too much for Albus to bear. He awoke extremely early on the morning of Friday, the day Professor Prewett had singled out as the day the Goblet chose the Champions. Slipping into his slippers, and taking care not to wake the other boys, he tiptoed out of the room and down through the Gryffindor common room. He hurried through the corridors of Hogwarts, hand clutching a small piece of paper bearing the words 'ALBUS DUMBLEDORE'.

Albus snuck into the Great Hall, feeling terribly small underneath the magical sky. The air was thick with clouds, clouds that teemed high into the ceiling with the threat of rain and lightning.

Albus was not alone. A tall, square shouldered boy with blonde hair was putting his name into the blue flames. It was Thomas Jones, the Gryffindor Prefect and Quidditch Captain.

'Oh, hello Albus,' Thomas said softly. His face was drawn and pale. 'So … you're entering too.'

'Erm … yes,' Albus said. He hurried forward and threw his name into the Goblet, feeling awkward.

'Oh well,' Thomas sighed, holding out a hand. 'Let us shake on it, and say "may the best man from Gryffindor win".'

'Oh you will win,' Albus said, shaking Thomas' hand. 'At least, I hope you do. I think I will die of fright if my name actually does come out tonight.'

'Me too,' Thomas said. He gave a nervous laugh, and Albus joined him. The sound of their timid voices echoing in the Great Hall gave them little comfort, and they hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, each thinking the same thing: 'what if he wins?'

* * *

Author's Note: thank you to my reviewers. Please keep them coming. Not many of you have been reviewing lately and I feel isolated from my readers. I prefer to know what you are all thinking because it helps me to write better! I also want to point out to those of you who asked where the Triwizard Schools come from. Take out an atlas and I am sure you will be able to locate both Moskva and the Black Forest. And to those of you who wondered why the schools were not Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, let me remind you that this is late in the year 1853. The Triwizard Tournament 150 years ago could easily have involved different schools. And someone suggested that Albus should have taken revenge on Professor Prewett … I think the punishment of 400 points, the Howler from Archaeon and the threat of being expelled was more enough to put Albus in his place. This is not a story about kids being brats all the time. Lessons need to be learned for Albus to grow into the great wizard we know he is. 


	8. The Three Champions

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

Author's Note: It has been pointed out to me that, according to canon, the Triwizard Tournament has not been held for over 350 years when Harry is Champion. I would like to say that while it is my aim to remain true to canon, I do not actually refer to JK Rowling's books when I am writing. I try to use my own creativity to come up with my own stories within her world. So I apologise to anyone who abides strictly by canon, but I am going to continue on with this story nonetheless.

"What is darkness to one is light to another"

Chapter 8 – The Three Champions

The night that the Goblet of Fire made its much anticipated announcement; Albus found he was unable to sit still in the Gryffindor common room. The Houses had been sent to their common rooms after dinner to await the call, which was expected to happen somewhere between ten o'clock and midnight. So it was that Albus, situated in the Pirates usual corner of the common room, was shuffling from side to side on the couch, bouncing his legs up and down and tapping his fingers incessantly on the leather.

'Will you please sit still Albus!' complained Mars after he had thrice had his quill dislodged from its normal course of writing. How can I complete Professor Solstice's essay on the Decryption of Dark Runes with you bouncing about like a jack-in-the-box?

'He isn't the only one,' Emily observed, a faint hint of a smile on her face as she watched Alabastor biting his fingernails. William was running his hand through his lanky black hair every few moments, somehow managing to do it more often than he usually did. Of the girls, Maggie and Victoria looked slightly queasy. Everyone in the group suspected Victoria's reason for looking pale, but it certainly crossed their minds to wonder whether Maggie had been bold enough to enter her name for the Tournament.

'So, who entered the Tournament then?' asked Annabel lightly. She had an innocent look about her, as though trying to bring calm to the electric atmosphere that filled the Gryffindor common room. It was not hard to sense; barely anyone was talking but there was the audible rustle of robes and strumming of fingers on surfaces.

'Well we do not have to be geniuses to gather that Albus did,' Emily said. Victoria flinched, and then buried her nose in a book. Albus noticed that the book she was holding was upside down. Clearly, he thought, she is doing anything but reading. Emily continued, 'and I suppose Alabastor, playing the hero, did as well.'

'I am not playing the hero!' Alabastor spat.

'Whatever you say, dearie,' Emily said, smiling sweetly.

'I am not your "dearie"!' Alabastor yelled. He leaped up from his seat and stormed off, finding refuge behind a massive drape containing hundreds of tiny golden Gryffindor emblems. The fact that none of the nine remaining Pirates were moved by Alabastor's outburst was testament to their own degree of nervousness.

'Well that answers that,' Emily said mildly. 'And to continue answering your question, Annabel, I think your William has entered the Tournament too.'

Annabel looked up sharply, her eyes wide as saucers against her fair skin. William gave her a noncommittal look, ran his hand through his hair again and turned his attention to a portrait on the wall, in which a housemaid was yelling at her husband for arriving home late from the portrait of the pub on the seventh floor of Hogwarts. Annabel's eyes went glassy and she started pulling at strands in her robes.

'And last of all, I presume you are entering, Maggie?' Emily asked.

'Yes,' Maggie said in a painfully quiet voice.

'Do you know of any other second years from other Houses who are entering?' Mars asked, rolling up his homework scroll, fed up with Albus continually bumping him.

'I assume Jenning Ranger is,' Emily replied, 'and I suspect our dear friend Noxious Black is too. Besides those two, I have not heard of any.'

'Gryffindor the standard bearer again,' Mars said proudly. 'Four Gryffindor second years entering, and only half as many from the other three Houses.'

'Do you know what I find strange,' Emily said after a brief lull in conversation, 'is that our Champion Albus has said nothing so far this evening.'

All eyes turned to Albus, who was busy biting his lower lip and staring vacantly across the common room in the direction of the portrait hole. His whole mind was focused on the entrance to Gryffindor, awaiting the arrival of the messenger. He had barely heard a word of the conversation that had just passed.

'Leave him be, he is nervous,' Mars said loyally. He gave Albus a pat on the shoulder. 'Relax a tad, mate. You will find out soon enough.'

And soon enough came just a few minutes later. Professor Rolleston bustled in through the portrait hole, his crimson robes catching on the Fat Lady's hinges. Once he had righted himself, fixing his half-moon glasses on the centre of his nose, he raised his voice to call silence on Gryffindor. It was hardly required, for a steady silence had already fallen on the House when he arrived.

'The Goblet of Fire is ready to make its decision,' Professor Rolleston. 'You may come to the Great Hall.'

An audible sigh followed his words, and then the swell of noise rose as seventy desperately eager Gryffindors surged towards the portrait hole. Albus felt like he was being carried along on a tide. He could barely feel his own legs moving underneath him. It was a surreal experience. There are moments in life when excitement, nerves, fear, anticipation and hope merge together to create a single, indefinable emotion. For Albus, this was very much one of those moments, and it was one he would never forget.

Inside the Great Hall, the House tables had been removed. In their place, six raised stands had been placed around the walls, creating an arena in the centre of the vast room. Overhead the sky loomed dark and omnipresent, littered with stars marking a trail of timeless beauty from one end of the Hall to another. In the very centre of the arena, the Goblet of Fire stood on its dais. Each of the six stands were occupied, four by the Houses of Hogwarts and the remaining two by the guest schools. The students of Moskva Academy were huddled together in the front two rows of their stand, as usual dressed entirely in black. Their powerfully built Headmaster, Dr Vladimir Strovsky, with his straggling mass of hair and vampirishly white skin against his ebony outfit, was seated to the front and right, a little way apart from his students. He was resting his chin on a long wooden cane.

To the right of Slytherin House sat the students of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts. Admiral Wolfgang Schultz, their Headmaster, was wearing his usual naval suit, emblazoned with badges and small dangling trophies. He looked completely the part of a muggle. Even his moustache was clipped and sharp edged, like a muggle soldier. His students could not have looked less like muggles if they had tried. Their sharp crimson tunics were covered up by flowing silver robes, and almost every one of them was clutching on to a wand, as though they half expected Hogwarts to turn on them in an instant.

Once all four Houses were seated alongside the two guest schools, Professor Prewett approached the lectern on the raised dais at the front of the Great Hall. She was accompanied by a retinue of five strange witches and wizards. All five wore very long, formal grey robes. The murmur quickly passed around the school that these were Ministry for Magic representatives.

'Good evening esteemed guests, boys and girls,' Professor Prewett said. 'You have all come here tonight wearing your hopes and dreams of glory on your sleeves. Tonight is a night that three of you will never forget, in all your years. For the remainder of you, there will be feelings of disappointment; but I urge you all to abandon any feelings of regret and join quickly in supporting the Champion that is chosen from your school. Once the three Champions are chosen, there is no turning back for them. They are subject to the requirements of the Triwizard Tournament and must complete every task; even unto the death.'

A breathless silence filled the Great Hall. Albus felt like the air was cloying in his lungs. His bones were jangling so loudly inside his body and his teeth chattered together so forcefully, he wondered whether the entire Hall could hear how nervous he was.

All of a sudden, the blue flame of the Goblet of Fire started swirling around and changing form. A buzz rose around the room. The flame turned a ferocious shade of red. With a barely audible rush, a piece of paper burst from the blaze and started floating slowly through the air. Professor Prewett crossed the floor in a few brisk strides and caught the piece of paper. She held it up to the candlelight and read.

'The Champion from Moskva Academy is … Anastacia Volkova!'

A cheer of appreciation went up from the witches and wizards in black, although Albus noticed that several held their heads in their hands. A very tall, long-limbed girl with blonde hair that flowed down her back stood up and made her way across the floor towards Professor Prewett. She had pale skin underneath the brim of her witch's hat, and Albus thought she might have blue eyes.

'If I may speak?' said Dr Vladimir Strovsky, as Anastacia Volkova shook hands with Professor Prewett. Professor Prewett glanced at the Ministry for Magic officials, one of whom shrugged and gave the Russian a curt nod, as to give him permission. He stepped forward, his boots clipping the stone floor loudly. He said, 'I like to give Anastacia an introduction for all of you. Anastacia is top student at Moskva Academy. She is witch with strong grasping of wand work and Charms. She is skilled transfigurator and already possesses animagus qualities. Anastacia is top Champion.'

The Hogwarts students did not quite know what to make of Dr Strovsky's limited grasp of English, his strange accent which did not seem quite Russian but certainly was not English, or his appraisal of his own students. A few people laughed (notably Aberforth, who clutched his side and bawled with merriment), but most erupted into spontaneous and approving applause. Professor Prewett smiled across at Anastacia, who was the same height, and indicated that she follow one of the Ministry representatives through a back door behind the staff table.

The Gryffindor second years barely had time to exchange remarks about how pretty the Russian girl was and how confident she had looked, when the Goblet of Fire did its fiery little dance again and turned bright red. Another piece of paper popped out, and Professor Prewett caught it primly in her right hand. She raised it up, squinting through her monocle to read it.

'The Champion from the Black Forest School of Magical Arts is … Jannes Jakobus Hannes Reinhardt Grundelwald!'

A shiver ran right the length of Albus' spine, from the very roots of the hairs on the back of his neck down to his tail end. The name had frightened him immensely, for no apparent reason. He glanced over quickly to see who this Champion was.

The reaction of the Black Forest Academy of Magical Arts was shockingly different from that of Moskva Academy. They had risen as one to give their new Champion a rousing vote of approval. All held fists to their chests, and a resonant anthem of victory was sung as the Champion marched over to receive Professor Prewett's handshake. Jannes Jakobus Hannes Reinhardt Grundelwald was square-shouldered and stocky. He was shorter than Anastacia Volkova, because Professor Prewett had to look down to congratulate him, but he had a presence about him that nullified her height. In fact, he seemed to tower over Professor Prewett, such was his aura. He wore brown hair combed in a frill over his forehead, above deep set grey eyes, a sharp nose and a square chin. But perhaps the most noticeable feature was the fact that throughout, he persisted in clutching his white wand in his left hand.

Albus felt waves of energy radiating from this character. He could feel the fine hairs on his face standing tall and tingling. He felt goose-pimples all across his skin, even the parts that were covered up by his crimson Gryffindor robes. Jannes Grundelwald was a wizard of immense power. Albus could see it without having to be told or having to see a demonstration. It was a feeling Albus had only twice before encountered; the first when he had seen his father Archaeon angry, and the second when he had come face to face with the great Dark Lord Imhotep in the Egyptian crypt last year.

Admiral Wolfgang Schultz followed in Jannes Grundelwald's footsteps and addressed the entire Great Hall on his Champion's behalf.

'I vood like to introduce Jannes Grundelwald,' Admiral Schultz said in a heavy German accent. 'Grundelwald is a very goot wizard, nein, he is a great wizard. He is a master of all disciplines; Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, Offense, Astronomy, Divination, Arithmancy, Potions and Herbology. Grundelwald is a very goot flier, a very goot man and a very goot wizard. He will be a goot, nein, a great Champion.'

The Great Hall tittered with laughter but gave Jannes Grundelwald an almighty round of applause. Grundelwald glared directly at the Gryffindor stand, where Aberforth was snickering and muttering, 'goot, goot, goot, goot, great, goot … a great big goot', much to the amusement of everyone around him. Suddenly an invisible bolt shot out from Grundelwald's wand in Aberforth's direction. Nobody seemed to notice but Albus. Albus did not know how he did it, but he managed to retrieve his wand from his pocket in time to deflect the spell. It shot harmlessly into the great beyond of the Great Hall ceiling. Jannes Grundelwald looked startled for the briefest of moments, before his face was again plastered with a fathomless expression, and he was herded away by a second Ministry official.

The whole of Hogwarts now turned their attentions on the Goblet of Fire with a level of interest approaching fanaticism. The next name to come out of the Goblet would be not only the last, but would be someone from within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Who would it be? Albus quickly forgot about the Grundelwald incident, because so much of his life seemed tied up in the impending announcement. As far as he could think, everything he dreamed of depended upon what was about to happen.

The flames of the Goblet started churning again, and in an instant turned from fierce blue to even fiercer red. For what seemed like infinity, nothing happened. Then, without fuss or splendour, a piece of paper shot out from the flames. Albus strained his eyes, trying desperately to ascertain if this was the piece of paper on which he had written his name. He could not see well enough. His eyes seemed not to be working properly again. He cursed them for playing up at this crucial interval.

Professor Prewett caught the piece of paper and held it up into the light. She frowned, adjusted her monocle, and frowned again. Then, with a spark of realization figured out that she was holding it the wrong way around. Trying not to look too embarrassed, Professor Prewett turned the piece of paper over and read the name of the Champion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'The third and final Champion,' Professor Prewett said slowly, 'hailing from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; is … Thomas Jones!'

Gryffindor was suddenly on their feet as one, cheering and pumping their fists in the air. Albus, for the second time that night, felt himself carried along by the motion of other human beings. He did not know what emotion to express; sheer and utter relief at not being in the Triwizard Tournament, or immense disappointment that Professor Rolleston's prediction had been wrong. But barely a second later and it did not matter at all. Victoria threw herself into Albus with the force of a storm, giving him the fiercest hug he had ever received.

'Oh, Albus, I'm so glad you didn't get it!' she cried into his neck, 'I was so worried.'

And then, in a moment of remarkable tenderness, Victoria Moody pulled back and gave Albus his first ever kiss.

It lasted less than five seconds, but the after effects were heady. Albus lost track of whatever else was happening around him. He stared at Victoria with wide eyes and a body that had lost all feeling. All he was aware of was her presence, and the memory of what it felt like to have her lips on his.

Fortunately Victoria was slightly more in control of her feelings, because the Gryffindors were starting to take their seats now that Thomas Jones had crossed the floor to shake hands with Professor Prewett. Victoria took Albus' hand and pulled it down so that Albus was forced to sit down. She sat down next to him, her left arm pressed against his right. They were forced to sit in close proximity by the fact that the stand was slightly too small to accommodate seventy Gryffindors in comfort, but this was of no consequence to Albus' madly misfiring neurons at that moment. All he could appreciate was the feeling of Victoria's arm against his.

'Thomas Jones is an exemplary student,' Professor Prewett was saying of the Gryffindor Champion, although Albus barely registered a word. 'He is the Gryffindor House Quidditch Captain, an excellent flier, a top student in Defense against the Dark Arts and has qualities that will hold him in great stead for this Tournament: mental strength, courage, determination and more. He is a worthy Champion of Hogwarts.'

Gryffindor once again broke out into whoops of joy, and the whole school joined in to give Thomas a worthy round of applause. The Ministry for Magic officials led him away, followed by the three Head Teachers and several of the staff. Professor Rolleston had to inform the students that they were now required to return to their respective Houses, and in the case of the guest schools, the specially made dormitories where they were staying.

Albus and Victoria did not move more than an arm-span apart on the way back to Gryffindor, and ignored everything the other Pirates said to them. For Albus, it was not a case of ignoring them; rather, he simply did not register anything anyone said to him. Back in the Gryffindor common room, Albus and Victoria sat down in the Pirates favourite couch, doing nothing but hold hands. It was the warmest, coziest place Albus had ever been. Nothing else seemed to matter, and losing the Triwizard Champion tag to Thomas Jones was the farthest thing from his mind.

It was only when Aberforth came over with Butterbeers and recommended that Albus go over to congratulate Thomas Jones, who had just arrived back from wherever the Ministry officials had taken him, that Albus extricated himself from his seat next to Victoria.

He wandered over to a throng of fifth, sixth and seventh year boys and girls (mostly), who were crowding around Thomas attempting to get a word in with him. Being small and limber, Albus managed to squeeze between peoples legs until he was at the front.

'Oy, Albus mate,' Thomas said, ruffling Albus' auburn hair. 'I'm sorry, my friend.'

'Do not be,' Albus said, offering a handshake and a genuine smile. He found that there was absolutely no disappointment in his voice or his manner. He was truly happy for Thomas. 'You deserve to be Champion, and I promise that every one of the Pirates is entirely behind you.'

'I am glad of that,' Thomas said. 'With such magnificent wizards and witches like the Pirates behind me, I can hardly lose, can I?'

Albus smiled willingly, before hurrying back to where Victoria was sitting on the couch. To his dismay he discovered that the other four Gryffindor second year girls were crowded around her, engaged in what amounted to little more than a gossip-fest. It took a perceptive Mars to pull Albus aside and drag him up to the boys' bedroom.

'What are you taking me up here for?' Albus demanded to know. 'The party has just started.'

'The teasing is going to be relentless,' Mars said shrewdly. 'Already some of the first and third years know about you two. After missing out on being Champion, I don't think you can deal with being teased as well.'

'Who are you to say …' Albus began angrily, but bit his tongue mid-sentence. He saw that Mars was right. But it was not Albus that Mars was protecting, ironically. It was Victoria; for it would be she who would break down in tears should a haggle of people start mocking them for sitting on a couch holding hands.

'Go to bed, Albus,' Mars said, his green eyes softening, 'you will be able to see your fellow lovebird in the morning.'

'Don't you start!' cried Albus. He seized the nearest pillow and chucked it at Mars. Mars was game for a fight, and soon feathers were bursting into flight across the room as the boys had a magnificent pillow duel. Somewhere along the line, Alabastor, Edward and William entered the room and joined in. Much laughter followed, and when Albus sank into a feather strewn bed shortly after midnight, it was with the consummate grin on his face. He was not a Triwizard Champion; but with opponents like Anastacia Volkova and Jannes Grundelwald, that did not seem so bad after all. But overriding it all was the memory of his first kiss, and the extraordinarily warm feeling that Victoria had brought into his chest. Albus slept very well that night.

Author's Note: I hope nobody is too bitterly disappointed that Albus is not going to be the Triwizard Champion this year. Let us all remember that he is only a second year, and at this point could not compete with an Animagus Russian or a powerful German wizard by the name of Grundelwald. Oh, the games that I am going to play with you, my readers, during this story. (Evil, manic laughter)

I just wanted to address a few points readers have raised. 1) The frequency at which I update. I only get time to write on the weekends at the moment. Consequently the best I can do for you is one update a week, usually on a Monday morning. At best I could manage two a week, but at the moment that is not happening. 2) The way people speak. In "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather", I tried to use formal language and was criticized for making the language that way. Now I have resorted to more relaxed language, and some of you are pointing out that people didn't talk like that in 1853. Well that is true, but I do not know how they talked in 1853, have no way to research how they did without reading Charles Dickens, and seeing as I cannot be bothered reading Dickens, let us just accept that this is a "translation for modern readers". Keep on reading and reviewing, I like getting feedback both positive and negative. It keeps me honest!


	9. The Orb of Duality

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

Author's note: Three things. 1) Grundelwald is a deliberate spelling. I know JK Rowling used the name Grindelwald in her books. I know what I am doing. 2) To those of you who do not like this second book because it is moving away from canon, I say that I am writing a story set in 1853. Hogwarts would have been a very different place; and the wizarding world too, to the one we know of in JK Rowling's books. Remember that. 3) Thank you to all reviewers. Keep on reading and providing your feedback.

* * *

"There is no greater lesson than failure."

Chapter 9 – The Orb of Duality

The days that followed the announcement of the three Triwizard Champions by the Goblet of Fire were of mixed feelings for Albus. There was the dizzying happiness he felt that Victoria had kissed him and that their mutual feelings for one another were in the open at last. But this was offset but the growing realization that Professor Rolleston had been wrong about Albus putting his name into the Goblet of Fire. He had told Albus that he was guaranteed to be the Hogwarts Champion simply by virtue of entering. Never mind that Professor Rolleston had also told Albus not to enter. The fact remained; Albus quickly grew disappointed that he had not been picked.

The topic came up one sun-soaked afternoon when Victoria and Albus were taking their now customary walk through the Hogwarts grounds, on the periphery of the Forbidden Forest. They walked a few yards inside the edge of the Forest, where they could keep sight of Hogwarts castle but have enough privacy so that they did not attract the unwanted attentions of other students. Second year couplings normally did not warrant the attention of older students, but Albus was a little bit better known than the ordinary second year. As a result, he had encountered numerous taunts while walking from class to class in the corridors. It had not helped that Aberforth had somehow managed to convince Peeves the poltergeist to float around the corridors singing 'Victoria and Albus, sitting in a tree …' For once Peeves refused to obey Albus' request that he stop doing it.

It was this topic that Victoria wanted to talk about this afternoon, while Albus mulled over his exclusion from the Triwizard Tournament.

'I think you should talk to your brother,' Victoria said, pulling a strand of her sandy yellow hair over her ear. 'He has obviously jinxed that beastly poltergeist so it does not listen to you. You must get Aberforth to stop Peeves from singing that song everywhere. It is embarrassing.'

'Hmm,' Albus said. He was in the middle of thinking that perhaps the Goblet of Fire had made a mistake. He and Thomas Jones had put their entries into the Goblet at exactly the same time. Perhaps the Goblet had only noticed Thomas' entry, and had somehow missed his. Was there a way of proving this, he wondered? And if so, would the Goblet be forced to reconsider its decision?

'Albus, are you even listening to me?' Victoria asked.

'Huh … oh, yes,' Albus said, snapping back to reality with a jolt of his head. 'Yes, I'll speak to Peeves for you.'

'You already have spoken to Peeves,' Victoria said. 'I want you to talk to Aberforth.'

'Oh, of course,' Albus said, nodding his head a little too fervently to look convincing. 'I will tell him to get Peeves off our backs.'

They walked along in silence for a period. Victoria kept casting sideways looks at Albus through the strands of hair hanging over her eyes. The afternoon light, already dappled by the trees overhead, shone gold in her hair. Albus' own hair had a copper sheen to it. He was busy staring at his feet as they walked, lost in his thoughts.

'Something is truly bothering you,' Victoria said at last. 'Do tell me, dear Albus.'

Albus lifted his head to gaze into her dark eyes. He had refrained from talking to her about his disappointment, largely because she had kissed him when he had failed to win the third Champion's spot. He had not spoken of it to any of the other Pirates either, for that matter. Nobody but Professor Rolleston knew or understood why Albus could feel so cheated by the Goblet's decision. He would sound ridiculously arrogant if he told the other Pirates that he had expected to win.

And now Victoria's deep, charcoal eyes were urging him to share his feelings with her. He felt so safe in her presence, so comfortable, that the decision seemed easy. But a gut feeling wanted him to hold back. He fought with his instincts for several moments, but the power of a boyhood crush surpasses any emotion that a twelve year old can deal with, and Albus was soon defeated.

'It's … it's simply that I expected to be Champion,' Albus said, turning profusely red in the face at once. 'It isn't that I am terribly proud! Professor Rolleston said that if I entered I would be chosen because he said that the Goblet bases its decision on talent, and he said that I … that I'm the most talented child he has ever taught.'

The last line came out in a garble of words. Albus hoped that Victoria had not heard a word of what he was saying, because he was dreadfully ashamed to be saying such things about himself. But Victoria was highly perceptive.

'Of course you are,' she said. 'I daresay I was astonished when you didn't get chosen, but I guess it was good that you didn't …'

There was an awkward moment between them as both recalled their first kiss. They had not kissed since then, largely borne out of an individual fear that the other might reject them if they tried to initiate another one. The embarrassing silence was ended by Victoria, who took hold of Albus' hand and started talking again, albeit with a flush about her cheeks.

'Do you want to know something?' she asked. 'I knew your name long before I came to Hogwarts. My parents both spoke very highly of your parents when I was younger. My father always used to say; "That man Archaeon Dumbledore should be the Minister for Magic, and his wife Lubo the Undersecretary. That would sort the place out quicker than a jinx or two." The way my parents spoke of your parents, I knew before I arrived at Hogwarts that you would be something special. Nothing you have done has ever surprised me.'

Albus hung his head, ashamed because he could not return such a compliment to Victoria. He had only heard of the Moody family name in passing as a child, and this was not unusual because the wizarding world was so small and confined to a few thousand families in all of Britain. He chose to change the topic.

'Can you think why I didn't get picked as Champion, then?' he asked.

'I actually have not paid it any thought, Albus,' Victoria replied. She came to a stop underneath a holly tree. The sun was now at the level of the canopy. Furiously gold streaks of light penetrated the air around them, lighting up the tiniest specks of dust so that they looked like faeries. If Albus' eyes had not been hazy because of the sunlight, he would have sworn that faeries were indeed dancing around Victoria's head. Albus was mesmerized by the sight of her, but was clueless to the cue that she was giving him.

'You are pretty,' Albus said, partly under his breath.

'Then kiss me, stupid,' Victoria said.

He did, and for a happy moment he was back in the Great Hall, reliving the first kiss of his life. When it was over, the sun had disappeared behind a thick canopy of leaves on the horizon. Victoria took Albus by the hand again and started leading him back to Hogwarts castle. Their feet made slight rustling noises as they stepped on the luscious green grass, already darkening under the lengthening shadows. Everything seemed so clear to Albus, even though his eyes were playing up a little. The shadows met Hogwarts castle halfway up, so that the top half of the castle and the turrets were still bathed in glowing yellow light. The blue sky overhead was peppered with cotton-bud clouds, floating along in neat rows as though they had been laid there by the handiwork of people. Students were dotted around the Hogwarts grounds, dressed in robes of various colours. Some had scrolls and quills out and were busy with homework. A few were darting around in midair, chasing after a Golden Snitch. Others were frolicking by the lake's edge, teasing each other or casting mischievous spells on unsuspecting passersby. In that moment, with Victoria's soft hand in his, Albus saw Hogwarts as it was: complete; a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry where young boys and girls grew up. It was as though Albus had seen a capsule of time, something to preserve and recall forever. It would be an enduring memory, one that Albus would call upon many times in future years to remind him of the way he thought Hogwarts should always be.

* * *

Three days after Albus' moment of timeless clarity, something arrived for him by Owl Post at breakfast time. The Dumbledore family owl, Cleopatra, floated down bearing a small round package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. It looked like an over-inflated purse bag.

Albus opened it at once, and out rolled a small glass orb. Mars recognized it at once as the present Albus had received from Fawkes for his twelfth birthday.

'Albus, your father must have figured out what it does!' Mars said. 'Look, there is a note on your owl. Read it!'

Albus did not need Mars' encouragement. He had already seized the yellow roll of parchment tied to Cleopatra's leg. His eyes quickly scanned Archaeon's words.

'_This day the Tenth of October, in the good year 1853,_

_To my dear son Albus,_

_Cleopatra has been instructed to see the glass orb into your possession. Send a reply with her confirming that it arrived._

_The orb is a rare item known as the Orb of Duality. As far as my sources trace, this is the only one of its kind in existence. Its function is to provide the bearer with two answers to every problem they present it with. One answer is ALWAYS the absolute truth, and the other is ALWAYS the utmost untruth. But the Orb does not always provide one with both answers. Sometimes it selects to reveal only one. And it NEVER says which the truth is, and which the untruth is._

_This is a rather unique item and it is quite beyond me how your phoenix obtained it. Then again, it is a remarkable creature itself. The question we should be asking, and you should be thinking about this, son, is; why did Fawkes bring this thing to you?_

_The Orb of Duality is a dangerous item, my boy, and it should not fall into the wrong hands. Men can easily be misled by something they perceive to be the truth when it is, in fact, the polar opposite. Equally, you must hesitate before making use of this item. When faced with questions, ask yourself whether you actually want to know the truth. The truth is not always in your best interests._

_Therefore I am instructing you to take the Orb of Duality to Professor Solstice and to spend some sessions with him. He will be able to guide you in the proper use of this powerful magical artifact._

_You are developing a knack for obtaining exclusively rare and unique items. I suggest you come up with some way of protecting your belongings. In the holidays I will give you lessons on magical security, but for now you must make do with your own inventions. That ridiculous book Aberforth gave you might come in handy._

_Professor Rolleston informed me that you failed to be selected as Champion. My condolences to you, although I suspect you are well aware that the Triwizard Tournament is beyond you at this point in time._

_Your dear father,_

_Archaeon'_

It was the longest letter Albus had yet received from his father, and perhaps the most revealing. He was astonished that Professor Rolleston had figured out that he had gone behind his back and entered the Tournament against advice. He was really starting to wonder whether Professor Rolleston had some special abilities that set him apart from other staff members.

But in the present, Albus was thrilled to be holding something as impressive as the Orb of Duality. Much as he sensed it was an agent for the Dark Arts, the fact that Fawkes had given it to him gave him encouragement. Perhaps it belonged in the hands of a good wizard, as Albus saw himself to be, rather than the hands of a dark one. Archaeon was right; Albus needed to figure out a way to hide his possessions, and soon. There were new and strange people lurking around the halls of Hogwarts lately, particularly the likes of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts, their Headmaster Admiral Schultz, and their Champion, the permanently serious Jannes Grundelwald.

'What is that thing?' Mars demanded. He and the other Gryffindor second years were staring at the orb with passionate interest. Nothing Albus ever received by mail was uninteresting, they knew that much. The three first years that seemed to have adopted Albus as their personal hero, Gregory, Mathilda and Allan were also listening in with quivering ears.

'I cannot tell you here,' Albus said softly. He placed the orb back inside its brown packaging, and slipped it into the inside pocket of his robes. 'I have to talk to Professor Solstice about it first, and then I will show you all. It is very secret.'

Alabastor gave a very audible snap of his tongue, made a ceremonious show of clashing his spoon down in his porridge bowl and getting up to leave the table. He gave Albus a look of disgust and marched off. William followed, running a hand through his hair but not stopping to look at Albus. Albus turned to Mars, confusion running across his face. But Mars' look hardened, as if to say, 'I was there when you got it, and you won't even tell me.' Mars also threw his spoon down and left the table.

Albus turned to look at Victoria, who was sitting across him at the table. She had the temerity to look sheepish.

'What was that all about?' Albus said dumbly. Victoria did not answer. She buried her face in a large mug of steaming English tea.

'They probably think you're going to tell Victoria before you tell them,' Emily said astutely. 'Which, you probably will, won't you?'

'I … I … that's not fair!' said Albus. His face grew hot as he realized what a foolish presumption had turned his friends against him. 'I wasn't going to tell Victoria either. This is my secret!'

At that, Victoria sat up bolt upright and gave Albus a revoltingly cold look. Her lower lip trembled, and before the tears could come, she too had scattered from the table. Emily and Maggie followed at once. Annabel, Edward and Elizabeth, who were sitting a little further away, dropped their heads and started whispering in low undertones.

'I do not believe it,' Albus said, staring at the spaces where six of his friends had previously been sitting. 'I simply cannot believe the idiocy of these people.'

Allan Glastonbury, who looked fit to burst with excitement at the thought of that mysterious glass orb, waved his arms to catch Albus' attention out of the corner of his peripheral vision.

'What is it, Allan?' Albus snapped.

'So will you tell us what that thing is?' Allan gabbled.

'No I will not, you pesky little rat,' Albus snapped even louder. He wrenched himself from his seat and became the eighth Gryffindor to storm from the table that morning. The other one had been a sixth year whose porridge had been enchanted to spill into her lap by a cheeky seventh year boy. The three Gryffindor first years were left behind feeling put out by the bizarre actions of their seniors.

* * *

It was an unpleasant sort of a day for Albus. He sat separate from his Gryffindor colleagues in class, having to ingratiate himself with the Slytherins in Charms and the Ravenclaws in Defense against the Dark Arts. He tried to catch Victoria's eye all lesson, but she failed to notice him, or so he perceived it. Victoria was having the same problem, looking across at him every time he looked away, such that she thought he was ignoring her. Trouble was brewing, and merely by unfortunate coincidence.

Growing evermore frustrated, Albus felt the urge to consult the Orb of Duality before he had spoken to Professor Solstice about it, but he resisted it. He was currently resolving to obey Archaeon at all times. So, he left the Orb in his pocket until the end of Defense against the Dark Arts, when he approached Professor Solstice's desk.

'Ah, Albus,' said Professor Solstice, flashing his handsome ivory smile. 'What may I do for you? The lesson was not too simple, I am hoping?'

'No sir, I am finding the interpretation of Egyptian hieroglyphics quite challenging, actually,' Albus said. 'My father sent me something, and he wants you to help me learn how to use it.'

'Ah, the Orb of Duality,' Professor Solstice said. He leaned back in his leather chair, interlocking the fingers of his two dark hands against his white African robe. The whites of his eyes were wide against his black face. 'Archaeon dropped me a note by owl to warn that you would be seeing me about this. Come now, place the Orb on this pedestal here and we shall practice reading it together.'

There was a small wooden pedestal on the edge of Professor Solstice's crowded desk. Statues of Egyptian goddesses supported rows of ancient books, the spines of which were tattered and dust-covered. Countless scrolls of papyri were strewn all over the place, and a number of ankhs and other amulets had their place on Professor Solstice's desk. Albus brought the Orb out of his pocket and placed it on the pedestal. Professor Solstice conjured a chair out of thin air for Albus to sit in, and the two sat staring at the Orb from different angles.

'Have you used one of these before?' Albus asked uncertainly. He never doubted his father's judgement, but he had to be sure that Professor Solstice would be able to help him.

'Strangely enough, I have,' Professor Solstice said. 'While your father's Archaeowizarding exploits seek to uncover the magnitude of magical history, I seek out the finer details of that history. Your father unearths magical places, and the items within them. I unearth magical items exclusively; the sort that are not kept inside temples or tombs, but the sort that lie in places too obscure for your father to hunt. And one such a hunt led me to discover an orb like this one. So I have read an orb before, but only once.'

'What happened to the other orb?' Albus asked.

'It was stolen from me,' Professor Solstice replied. 'But the thief met a dreadful end when he interpreted a lie as a truth and was led to his death. The orb went with him, plummeting thousands of feet to a bloody, shattered end.'

Albus grimaced. Maybe this was not what he wanted to hear. He decided to bring the conversation back to the task at hand.

'So what should I do first?' Albus asked.

'Ask it a question,' Professor Solstice said. 'That is the easy part. There is nothing complex about the use of the Orb of Duality. You simply ask away, whatever question you wish to know the answer to. The difficulty is deciding which answer is truth, and which is untruth, if you are lucky enough to receive two answers.'

Albus had a question on the tip of his tongue, but he was held back by embarrassment. He could not ask about Victoria in front of Professor Solstice.

'Do not be afraid to ask about Miss Moody,' Professor Solstice said; with another glowing smile. When Albus looked stunned, he grinned and said, 'I am a reasonably skilled legilimens. And I know which members of my classroom have crushes. The pair of you were throwing looks at each other all lesson.'

Albus flushed with a feeling of intense satisfaction. Victoria also wanted a resolution to their conflict. He resolved to go straight to her with the story about the Orb of Duality, even if it made Mars, William and Alabastor jealous.

Albus turned his attention back to the Orb and asked the question that was now on his mind.

'Will Victoria and I be happy together forever, Orb?' he said. It was a stupid question, he knew at once, but Professor Solstice showed no sign that he disapproved of Albus' choice. Albus followed his teacher's eyes to the Orb, which was turning smoky. Hazy golden letters were appearing in the mist.

'_Boundless the love shall be,' _Albus read. Just as his heart skipped a beat for joy, another sentence appeared in the smoke. Albus read, '_Death shall part.' _Albus paused for a second before opening his mouth in disbelief. 'What in the name of Merlin is that supposed to mean?'

'Difficult, isn't it?' said Professor Solstice with a trace of a smile. 'There are so many readings into both answers. Your love could be boundless; that is to say, timeless and never-ending. But that could also mean that you never end up together in a fixed relationship, your love could be without bounds. The second statement has dual meanings. You could end up married and death shall part you. Or, your love could be parted by death; either the death of one of you two or, someone else's death could come between you.'

Albus was flummoxed. He gaped at the Orb of Duality, barely believing it possible that something so equally honest and dishonest could be so impossible to read. He had expected that the answers would be black or white.

'That was a difficult question,' Professor Solstice said. 'Love is the one thing that any magical device finds hard to fathom. Or perhaps we simply find it too difficult to understand ourselves. Let us attempt an easier question; shall we say … Orb of Duality, tell us, will Albus die one day?'

Once again the Orb of Duality went a cloudy colour and golden letters appeared out of its murky depths. Professor Solstice read the cold answer for Albus.

'_Death shall come for him,'_ Professor Solstice said.

'But where is the second answer?' Albus said when it failed to materialize.

'The Orb sometimes chooses to reveal only one answer,' Professor Solstice said, 'as I already told you. It does not tell you whether it is the truth, but we can safely say that this is the truth. You will die one day, like all of us.'

Albus suddenly had a desire to get out of the classroom. The whole room seemed several degrees colder than a minute beforehand, and Albus shivered with a trill of illicit excitement. The Orb made him feel unnaturally powerful, and scared him. Professor Solstice must have been reading his thoughts again, because he spoke.

'You should get down to lunch before the afternoon classes commence,' Professor Solstice said.

Albus put the Orb back in his robe pocket, shouldered his bag and headed for the door. As he departed, Professor Solstice had one last thing to say.

'Remember, boy,' he said, 'the Orb of Duality is difficult to read at the best of times. Be very cautious about using it for everyday things. Use it only when the situation demands it, is that understood?'

'Yes sir,' Albus replied, and disappeared out the door. He wanted to find Victoria.


	10. The Portrait Gatekeeper

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

Author's Note: I am disappointed! I put a lot of effort into Chapter 9 and then I got a mere 3 reviews! Ironically some of the chapters that I don't work as hard at get over a dozen reviews. I would like to ask anonymous readers to please review once in a while. Your reviews can be anonymous, and all I ask is that you give me tips on how to improve the story for you. I can never please everyone, but I do my best.

"In the dark of the night we are one with our fear"

Chapter 10 – The Portrait Gatekeeper

Albus revealed the secret of the Orb of Duality to his friends and their anger with him was quickly dissipated by the excitement of being able to ask it questions. Alabastor took great delight in asking the Orb 'how ugly is William?' To which it would either reply, _'that he is not' _or _'his face would mortify even the hardiest of souls' _or both. The girls asked questions like 'am I pretty?' and none were happy when the Orb of Duality responded with statements like _'no' _or _'in a manner of speaking'. _Mars was a little more daring and asked the Orb what Professor Rookwood would ask in their upcoming Potions test. The Orb responded with, _'a variety of questions taken from the textbook'. _There was no doubting that this was the truth, albeit a very unhelpful one.

The Orb of Duality created more problems than it solved, however, and one quarrel in particular led to Albus deciding to ban his friends from using it and locking it away. The dispute had arisen after Alabastor asked the Orb, 'am I the best wizard in second year?' The Orb had replied, _'indisputable',_ and this had set off a storm of controversy. First William had hotly contested Alabastor's conclusion that this was the truth. Thereafter Victoria had tried to argue that 'indisputable' was not a satisfactory answer to the question he had asked and therefore he could not claim to be the best. A shouting match between the second years had resulted, and before Albus could calm the riot himself, Thomas Jones had come storming over to the second year corner of the common room.

'Will you rabble please keep your voices down?' Thomas implored. 'It is bad enough having to listen to Aberforth's perpetual burping spell without you lot screaming the walls down. What is it you are fighting about anyway?'

'Alabastor thinks that the Orb truthfully said he was the best second year wizard,' William said in a snobby voice.

'Mind keeping my Orb secret, William?' Albus growled.

'I am the best second year wizard,' Alabastor snapped.

'_Silencio,'_ Thomas said, shutting the second years up with his wand. He pointed at the glass ball on Alabastor's lap. 'Is this the Orb you are talking about, Dumbledore?'

Albus nodded. Thomas, as was a Prefect's right to do in any situation, leaned over and picked up the Orb without asking. Had he the mind to, Albus realized, Thomas could simply confiscate it and then it would be lost to him! Albus cursed himself for letting his friends play with the Orb in the common room, for the whole world to see. He resolved to lock away the Orb and his other possessions as soon as he got it back from Thomas.

'What exactly does this do?' Thomas asked. Albus noticed that Thomas' face was heavily lined, and two red bags hung underneath his normally crystal blue eyes. His blonde hair was disheveled and he had started growing a beard, apparently too preoccupied to perform a simple shaving spell. It was hardly a surprise what was keeping Thomas sleepless; the first Triwizard Tournament Task was rapidly approaching.

'It gives you two answers to every question,' Albus said plainly. Thomas' silencing spell had worn off pretty quickly; Albus surmised that his wand-work was a little off-kilter because of the stress he was under. He was quickly beginning to feel sorry for Thomas and glad that he wasn't the Champion after all.

'And would I be correct in assuming that one answer is correct and the other is incorrect?' Thomas said.

'Yes,' said Albus. 'One is the absolute truth, and the other is an absolute lie. I imagine that one has to be particularly insightful to figure out which is the truth, and which is the lie.'

'I need this,' Thomas said quickly. He was clutching the Orb with white fingers, the bones showing through his skin. His eyes had gone wide, so much so that Albus could see the red blood vessels at the edge of the whites. He looked like a man who had discovered the essence of life at the precise moment he was about to die. Thomas' voice dropped into a very low tone and he said, 'all the other Champions have Headmasters who would cheat for the sake of winning a galleon, let alone seeing their Champions win the Triwizard Tournament. Professor Prewett would no sooner help me than award Gryffindor a thousand points because she can. Dumbledore, I need to use this Orb, please.'

Albus pulled at his lower lip thoughtfully. Both his father and Professor Solstice had warned him only to use the Orb when he really needed to. He had indulged his friends for a time, and meant to put the Orb away for precisely that purpose; using it only when he really needed to. But he sensed Thomas' need, and it somehow seemed like the right thing to do to help a Gryffindor win the Triwizard Tournament.

'Yes, you may,' Albus said, 'but I have to warn you that it is unlikely to help you much. It is very difficult to figure out truth from untruth.'

'That is why you will help me,' Thomas said simply.

'What about me?' Alabastor demanded. 'Can I help you as well?'

Thomas turned to look at Alabastor with weary, dispassionate eyes.

'I do not care what the Orb of Duality said to you, Meadowes,' Thomas said crisply, 'but you are not the best second year wizard. Dumbledore is. I do not need the Pirates help; I need the Orb's help, and Albus to help me decipher it.'

Alabastor's skin went a shade of grey. He made for the boys' dormitory at once, grumbling audibly under his breath the whole way.

'Come with me, Dumbledore,' Thomas said, 'and a good night to the rest of you.'

'Goodbye until later then, Albus,' Mars said pleasantly. Albus waved goodbye at the others, receiving something slightly resembling a smile from Victoria. She was being cool with him because he had not shared the Orb with her first, but he had more pressing things to worry about all of a sudden. This Tournament was a serious business, and Thomas clearly looked like he needed help.

Thomas crossed the Gryffindor common room and headed for the portrait hole. Albus felt the tingling sensation that accompanies one when all eyes are on you. Thomas had gone from being the respected Quidditch captain and Prefect to being hero-worshipped as the School Champion. It was a status that invoked adulation from all ages, at all times, and Albus felt further sympathy for Thomas as he walked to the portrait hole with him. It was hard enough having to face up to the challenges provided by the Tournament without having to deal with the weight of everyone else's expectations.

'Where are we going?' Albus asked, once the portrait hole had let them pass through to the word _'Champion'_, and they were alone in the grey stone corridor.

'I have a place I go to be alone with my thoughts,' Thomas said. 'One of the privileges of being a Prefect is that I can go wherever in the castle I please. Last year I found this enclave up in a turret in one of the highest towers. I go there whenever I want to be entirely undisturbed.'

They walked along in silence for a while. Albus felt terribly uncomfortable now that he was alone with Thomas. This was a Triwizard Champion! He had been asked to help a Champion with a Task! Or more correctly, the Champion needed use of one of his possessions. Albus felt like a useless appendage, dragged along simply because he was lucky enough to be the owner of an Orb of Duality.

'When is the first Task?' Albus asked; when the silence became too oppressive, like the surrounding darkness in the corridors. A few candles burned low in their brackets, but the castle was otherwise swathed in darkness.

'Halloween night,' Thomas said with a husky voice. 'It is less than a week away! I can only imagine what they are going to make us do.'

'What, precisely, is your need of the Orb of Duality?' Albus asked. 'I must confess that I am surprised you are asking me for help. Would it not be better if you sought help from your friends in sixth and seventh year?'

'Don't you think I've already exhausted all my options?' Thomas said. 'With all due respect, Dumbledore, consulting a second year is the last thing I would do whilst preparing for a Triwizard Tournament Task. It just so happens that you are the owner of an Orb of Duality, and I need to ask it some questions.'

'What sorts of questions?' Albus asked.

Thomas turned to Albus with a face that looked terrifying in the half-light. Thomas' glowing wand threw shadows over his face, making him look gaunt and bloodless like a vampire. Albus had to fight the desire to run away.

'Questions like, what is the first Task?' Thomas hissed. 'I do not even know what I am going to be doing … and I'd wager my parents' lives that both Grundelwald and Volkova know already.'

They arrived at the top of a tower, having scaled a spiraling staircase for what seemed like hours to Albus. He arrived, breathless, and sank into the wall of the little enclave without pausing to look at the view across Hogwarts. Thomas, on the other hand, leaned against the turret windows with two outstretched arms, and gazed across the moonlit Hogwarts grounds with the look of a warrior approaching battle. Albus had the Orb of Duality in his hands.

'Orb, what is the First Task of this year's Triwizard Tournament?' he asked. Thomas immediately detached his hands from the wall and crouched down beside Albus, eyes wide with apprehension. The Orb went smoky, and then a series of words appeared through the haze.

'_To navigate through the Forbidden Forest to the very heart in search of something'_

'_To rape, murder and pillage a Saskatchewan tribal village'_

'Well that is obvious,' Thomas said, his face looking a hundred times lighter. The wrinkles had vanished and he looked happy for the first time that evening. 'No Triwizard Task has ever involved rape, murder or pillage, so I assume that is the lie. The truth must be that I have to navigate through the Forbidden Forest.'

'I wonder who the Saskatchewan people are,' Albus said. But Thomas had grown animated by the prospect that he could enter the First Task confident of victory. The answers seemed right in front of his nose, and Albus himself felt a thrill of excitement run across his skin.

'What will I be searching for?' Thomas asked. When an answer failed to materialize in the Orb, Albus realized that the question had to be asked by the holder.

'What will Thomas be searching for?' Albus asked. Again the Orb went smoky, and again golden lettering appeared after a moment or two.

'_The meaning of his existence'_

Thomas and Albus waited for something else to materialize, but nothing came. Thomas stared hard at the Orb, as if willing it to produce more words.

'That must be an untruth,' Albus said. 'Surely something like that is beyond a Triwizard Champion.'

'Not necessarily,' Thomas said, 'but it would be a thoroughly un-magical task, seeing as muggle thinkers are always searching for that too. No, Triwizard Tasks are sure to be magical.'

'Well then, I suppose you will have to find out what you are searching for later,' Albus said. 'Why don't you attempt to ask it something else?' Albus handed the Orb to Thomas so that he could ask the questions himself, and peered around the side of Thomas' shoulder in order to watch the Orb's response or responses.

'What will I face in the Forbidden Forest?' Thomas asked.

To which the Orb replied, _'many a veiled mystery of arcane deception'_ and then, _'many a veiled threat of arcane origin'._

'I am doomed to die,' Thomas said, his shoulders sagging. 'There is no deciphering those two riddles.'

'They are not riddles,' Albus said, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the words. 'At least we know that "arcane" means "mysterious".'

'That is a tremendous help,' Thomas said dryly. '_"Many a veiled mystery of mysterious deception;"_ that is ridiculous! How can a veiled mystery be mysteriously deceptive?'

'Perhaps because the mystery is not a mystery at all,' Albus suggested hopefully, 'rather, it is deceptively simple.'

'Well in that case, it sounds like an untruth,' Thomas said; his old confidence back. Albus wondered whether this was just a ruse, whether Thomas was trying to make himself feel stronger by acting confidently.

'So that would mean the truth is that you have to face veiled threats of mysterious origin,' Albus said.

'That makes sense,' Thomas said, 'inside the Forbidden Forest there live some bizarre and dangerous creatures. I doubt many wizards would know where they come from.'

Albus suddenly had a terrifying thought.

'What if "mysterious origin" doesn't mean that?' Albus said.

'What do you mean?' asked Thomas.

'What if,' Albus said slowly; doing his best to articulate his words, 'instead of it meaning that it is a mystery where these threats come from, it means that it will be a mystery to you when they show up?'

'You mean to say, these veiled threats may originate … out of thin air perhaps?'

'I am only supposing,' Albus said.

Thomas looked at Albus with respect bordering on affection. He ruffled Albus' hair in a manner that was similar to the way Aberforth did it.

'You are probably correct,' Thomas said. 'You are quite brilliant.'

'No I'm not,' Albus said modestly. He played with the hem of his robe, feeling terribly embarrassed again, while Thomas went about asking further questions of the Orb.

'Orb, name the first veiled threat or mystery I will have to encounter,' said Thomas.

The Orb only responded with one answer.

'_A beast of lunacy'_

'Werewolf,' Thomas said at once. 'I heard something howling three weeks ago at the full moon, and given that Halloween falls on another full moon, I guessed that I might have to face a werewolf.'

'So you have been practicing spells and things to deal with one?' Albus said hopefully.

'Yes,' Thomas said. 'I have been practicing a great deal, but it is difficult trying to cover every magical jinx, counter-jinx, beast, counter-spell or potion and their antidotes when there are only so many hours in the day. If I can use this Orb to figure out roughly what I need to be working on, I might be able to get some sleep before the thirty-first.'

Albus smiled. He had chosen well in letting Thomas use the Orb. Thomas would surely die if he went into the First Task without having had any sleep.

Thomas spent hours extracting answers, potential truths and potential untruths from the Orb. Albus' eyebrows grew heavier and heavier. By the time he fell asleep against Thomas' shoulder, they had managed to figure out, approximately, that Thomas would have to face a werewolf, a hundred Dementors, a black unicorn, a horde of angry centaurs, a giant and a flesh-eating ghost. They had also worked out the exact route that he would have to take to reach the thing he was searching for, and Thomas had drawn himself a map. The only things that Albus and Thomas were not certain on were the black unicorn and the flesh-eating ghost, but these had sounded possible enough for Thomas to be sufficiently concerned about them.

Albus never knew it, but Thomas worked on until an hour before dawn, trying to extract every possible answer from the Orb about the first Task, even re-asking questions in different ways to try and clarify truth from un-truth. When he had finally satisfied his hunger for knowledge, he had gently lifted Albus over his shoulder and carried him back to Gryffindor Tower. Albus would wake up an hour later to find the Orb of Duality resting on the pillow next to his head.

Later that day Albus found out a way to kill two birds with one stone; to hide his most important belongings and to patch things up with Victoria by letting her help him do so. Aberforth's useful text _Guide to Magical Secret Keeping_ gave Albus the perfect idea for hiding his belongings. He asked Victoria to come with him when he went to perform the necessary charms after school had finished, and in so doing broke the ice that had formed between them since Albus had attained the Orb.

'So what are we doing?' Victoria asked as Albus led her up a flight of staircases to a higher, less frequented floor of Hogwarts castle. 'You say you're hiding the Orb and some other things, but how exactly do you propose to do that?'

'I got an idea from the book Aberforth gave me,' Albus said. 'There is a charm known as the Portrait Gatekeeper Charm, whereby I make a portrait the Gatekeeper of my secret. Once I have done that, only I can enter the portrait …'

'Enter the portrait!' Victoria exclaimed. 'You mean, actually climb up into a picture?'

'Yes,' Albus said, clicking his tongue at Victoria's interruption. 'I, and only I, can enter the portrait where one of the inhabitants of the portrait can tell me where I have hidden them. I am going to hide my possessions inside my robe pockets.'

'Well that was just stupid,' Victoria said. 'You just told me where you are going to hide them, so what is the point of doing this Portrait Gatekeeper Charm.'

'It is not stupid,' Albus said, 'because once I perform the charm, you will forget where they are. I will forget where they are. I could walk up to Jannes Grundelwald and say, "I have the Orb of Duality and it could help you win the Triwizard Tournament", and he could torture me all he wanted, perform legilimency on me, give me a truth serum … and still I could not tell him where it is.'

'That sounds like very powerful magic,' Victoria said. 'I am a bit skeptical, I must confess. Are you sure you can perform this spell?'

'I am certain of it,' Albus said. 'Just yesterday I performed a charm from the fifth year textbook for Professor Rolleston and he said I did it to perfection. Besides, this is a simple charm, as are all secret-keeper charms, but they are wonderfully effective.'

'I think you are too trusting,' Victoria said. 'I could never trust a spell to keep a secret.'

'Well then,' Albus said, 'that is where you and I are different.'

Albus arrived at a portrait on the fifth floor containing an aging old man with a flowing white beard and a large nose. He was twirling a wand around in his fingers whilst snoozing into his beard. It was a portrait of Albion Dumbledore, Albus' many-greats grandfather, who had come to a worn-out old portrait frame in the boys' bedroom last year to warn Albus that sinister plans were afoot. Of all the portraits in Hogwarts, Albus felt he could trust Albion Dumbledore's.

'Ahem, excuse me, great-great-great grandfather,' Albus said politely. The portrait opened its twinkling blue eyes and gazed on Albus with mild interest as he spoke. 'I am going to make you my Gatekeeper for the secret location of some of my belongings, if you do not mind.'

'Whatever you please,' the portrait replied.

Albus opened up _Guide to Magical Secret Keeping _and practiced the incantation a few times in the air, mouthing the spell but not saying the words. When he felt ready, he turned his brown wand, with streaks of red in its twelve and a half inches, on Albion Dumbledore's portrait.

'_Cerberus pictum,'_ Albus said, conducting his wand correctly. It was a tricky spell but nothing Albus had not done before.

A glow settled over Albion Dumbledore's portrait. It moved out towards Albus, fine little golden particles which surrounded him and the portrait and excluded the rest of the world, including Victoria.

'Upon this scroll write the secret you wish to hide,' Albion Dumbledore said in a solemn voice, 'then you shall be permitted entry to my portrait to place the scroll away from prying eyes.'

Albus looked at his feet and was surprised to see a scroll and a quill that had not been there before. He made sure that the items he was planning to hide were safely in the pockets of his robes, and then he picked up the scroll and the quill. He wrote, _'the Eye of Horus, the Orb of Duality and the sapphire ankh are inside Albus Dumbledore's robe pockets'._

Albus felt an irresistible tug. He was pulled head first into the portrait, landed with his feet firmly on the ground and came face to face with a very realistic painted Albion Dumbledore.

'Give me the secret, and return only when you need it,' Albion Dumbledore said. Albus handed the scroll over and …

Albus blinked three times. He was standing in the corridor next to Victoria, his robe feeling a lot lighter than it had a moment ago. His head also felt emptier, as though something had just been erased. Victoria was looking at him, confused.

'Where have you put the Orb?' she asked. 'I knew it, just an instant before, but now I have forgotten.'

'So have I,' Albus said, a little bemused. I know I put it somewhere safe, along with a few other things of mine, but I cannot remember where!'

'Go on, ask the portrait where you put them, this is bothering me.'

'Alas, Victoria,' Albus said, 'that is precisely why I will not ask the portrait. The spell has worked. My secret is hidden; even from me. Only when I need to know where they are will I come back here.'

Albus took a quibbling Victoria by the hand and led her away down the pale sun-streaked corridors of Hogwarts. The sun was fast setting, and winter was approaching. In less than a week, Thomas Jones would be attempting the first Task of the Triwizard Tournament, and Albus knew that he had done everything to ensure that Thomas could make it safely to the second Task.


	11. A Hallowe'en Task

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

'In the night our fears are realized in our dreams'

Chapter 11 – A Hallowe'en Task

The much awaited first Task of the 1853/54 Triwizard Tournament was due to occur on Friday, the 31st of October. As such the afternoon lessons were cancelled, which was a disappointment to Albus because he enjoyed Defense against the Dark Arts with Professor Solstice and Transfiguration with Professor Bones. But he soon forgot about lessons when he returned to the Gryffindor common room with the other second years. They entered the portrait hole to find the room exploding with noise. The sixth and seven years were chanting 'Jones-zee, Jones-zee, Jones-zee!' and several were holding aloft crimson and gold banners. A flustered Thomas was at the centre of it all, trying to look calm in the midst of the expectation that seemed to float in the very air like a mist. Albus and the other second years joined right in with the chanting, and were swept up in the motion of bodies when the time came to head down to the Hogwarts grounds for the first Task.

Rickety wooden stands had been erected in an arc facing the Forbidden Forest. Albus was pleased that he and Thomas had at least been right about one truth from the Orb of Duality. It was unlikely that Thomas would have to murder any Transylvanians tonight. Although, Albus thought with a snide grin, Jannes Grundelwald might not mind.

As Albus and his friends took seats in a stand occupied mainly by Gryffindors, he noticed that each of the three Champions standing in the grassy patch in front of the stands had a retinue of supporters. Thomas Jones was standing with his parents and his two brothers, Gareth from Ravenclaw and Davey from Hufflepuff. Albus remembered fondly how Mr. and Mrs. Jones had got hopelessly drunk last Christmas at the Dumbledores when Aberforth had spiked their drinks with Firewhisky.

Anastacia Volkova from the Moskva Academy was standing next to her Headmaster, the shaggy haired Dr Vladimir Strovsky, a tall blonde haired witch like herself and an even taller, leaner man; whom Albus suspected were her parents. Anastacia looked gritty, her lips pursed together and her eyes locked on the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. A handsome young Russian with a woolly hat and thick robes over his broad shoulders had his arm around her waist, but she barely appeared to notice his presence.

By contrast, Jannes Grundelwald did not have any parents with him. He was accompanied by the muggle-dressed Headmaster of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts, Admiral Wolfgang Schultz, and a small boy. Albus could only presume that this boy was somehow related to Jannes Grundelwald, but it hardly seemed possible. Where Jannes Grundelwald was square-shouldered and stocky with a sharp nose, a square chin and deep set grey eyes, the boy was small and ratty looking, as if he had been scraped out of the gutter and taken to an orphanage to grow on up thin soup and little else. His skin was covered with frightful scabs and he had scarce, grayish hair that barely covered his scalp. The boy was plain ugly. Already there were murmurs in the audience of primarily Hogwarts students, and fingers were being pointed as students drew their friends' attentions to the hideous little boy. The boy seemed to notice, and turned to glare at everyone. His eyes seemed to latch on to Albus'. And for the second time that year, a chill ran the full length of Albus' spine, putting every hair of his body on end. The boy had extraordinarily pale eyes. They were so pale that they appeared to be entirely white. And like Jannes Grundelwald standing next to him, this boy seemed to radiate power. In his scrawny little hands he held a crooked grey wand.

Albus' jaw quivered as he and the boy stared at one another. There was something enigmatic about this child, and he did not want to lose eye contact with him for some reason. Equally the white-eyed boy seemed intrigued by Albus, and both felt like their minds were trying to be read. Albus certainly was not yet capable of legilimency, and neither was the boy, because Albus did not feel the sensation of his thoughts being probed. It felt more like the top of his brain was being scratched gently with a feather. But for a boy who looked no older than ten and more like six, Albus realized that this was someone with natural talent that might even surpass his own.

Suddenly the boy mouthed something. Albus' eyebrows closed in ever so slightly. His eyes could just discern a ripple in the air moving swiftly towards him. It was a spell! The boy had not even flicked his wand! Albus instantly deflected it with his wand, and looked straight back at the boy. The white eyes hardened, and the boy turned away swiftly, not wishing to look at Albus any further. Albus felt himself sweating and breathing hard, as though he had been running. The encounter had left him perplexed. He knew now without any doubts that the white-eyed boy was the younger brother of Jannes Grundelwald, but why both seemed to exude such dislike and seemed so willing to cast secretive spells at people in the Hogwarts audience (Jannes had tried to jinx Aberforth in the Great Hall when the Champions were announced) was beyond Albus. There was something about those two that he did not like.

'Can I have your attention please,' Professor Prewett commanded. She was pointing her wand to her throat, so as to magnify her voice. The stands went silent. Professor Prewett was standing with two people, facing the Champions and the audience. Albus realized that one of the five, a tall, auburn haired man with a great beard over his chest, looked extremely familiar. Professor Prewett said, 'I would like to welcome the three Champions and all in attendance today, to the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. May I introduce the judges for the Tournament … standing to my left is the esteemed Minister for Magic, Lionel Wilberforce! And to my right is the magical world's leading Archaeowizard, Archaeon Dumbledore!'

The crowd gave the two men their approval with a round of applause. Victoria tugged on Albus' robe, as excited as he was to see his father present. Albus was relieved to see his father there. It lowered his sense of anxiety ahead of the first Task. He had a vision of the boy with white eyes casting one of his wandless spells at Archaeon, and Archaeon responding by casting a permanent self-smacking charm on the little German brat. Archaeon was the only person other than Grundelwald and his little brother who exuded power in a similar way. Albus reasoned that father would easily match the two Grundelwald boys, given his decades of experience and knowledge gathering.

'The other three judges will be Admiral Schultz, Dr Strovsky and I,' Professor Prewett continued. 'Tonight's task will take place under the full moon on All Hallows Eve. The muggles borrowed this night for a festival, but Hallowe'en is a night that belongs to the wizarding world. Tonight our three Champions must face their gravest fears in the darkest of places. They have until the end of the witching hour, one o'clock in the morning, to navigate their ways through the Forbidden Forest in search of their reward. On the way they will meet some of their worst nightmares. Only exceptional magical skill and determination will see them through.'

There was an audible shuffling of the audience in their seats. Albus looked across the stands and saw countless harrowed faces. Many of the Gryffindor girls had their hands covering their eyes. Thomas was well liked, evidently. The Moskva Academy students in their black robes and hats looked pale and nervous; and even the arrogant faces of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts students were tense. The atmosphere seemed to sparkle with magic. Albus shivered again. This was exciting and nerve-wracking.

'Will the Champions' families please take their seats in the stands,' Professor Prewett said, 'and can the three Champions please step forward to their starting positions. Now, Champions, you are aware of the rules. No assistance can be sought from anyone else. You are permitted wands and wands only. If you find yourself in trouble, send up red sparks and we will fetch you, but you are likely to be penalized heavily on points. You achieve points by reaching the target within the time period. If you arrive late, or fail to arrive, you will not be awarded many points at all. Good luck, and may the best witch or wizard emerge victorious. You may begin!'

The stands shook with noise as the three Champions stepped forward and disappeared into the dark bushes at the mouth of the Forbidden Forest. The cheering lasted for some minutes, until the noise died down and there was a palpable silence in the clearing. Albus felt like the entire audience was straining every nerve together, like one massive ear, trying to hear the first sign of something. But the Forbidden Forest was very good at soaking up noise; Albus knew that from his journeys into the Forest to plant Fawkes' Everliving Oak last year. So the audience soon became bored and chatter arose while the sun set and the full moon rose, heavy and yellow against the horizon.

'You know what Thomas has to face don't you?' William asked, leaning across Mars to talk to Albus. The other second years turned to Albus, expectant looks on their faces.

'Well, I suppose I have an idea,' Albus said. 'I admit I fell asleep before Thomas had finished asking the Orb questions, and we weren't even certain about most of the Orb's answers. But I think it is safe to say that Thomas will be facing a werewolf, a hundred Dementors, a horde of centaurs and a giant. He might also have to face a black unicorn and a flesh eating ghost, but we weren't sure whether the Orb was lying or telling the truth.'

'Ooh, a flesh eating ghost,' Emily said, rubbing her hands together salaciously. 'I do hope Anastacia Volkova returns with a leg missing.'

'Emily, that is positively horrible,' Victoria snapped. 'It would be better if half of her head was missing, as a simple healing spell would fix her leg.'

The girls giggled wickedly at their mutual dislike of the blonde Russian Champion.

'I would prefer it if the black unicorn pokes Grundelwald in the eye,' William said, grinning sideways at Mars and Albus.

'It might help his little brother to have those ghastly white eyes poked out,' Albus said, peering down at the front of the stands, where the families of the Champions were sitting. Albus did not see the scrawny grey haired boy at first. He strained his eyes, trying so hard to see the boy that they started to water. Growing quickly frustrated, he turned to Victoria and asked, 'can you see that weird Grundelwald boy anywhere, because I can't.'

Victoria looked for a minute before concluding that she, too, could not see the boy. Soon all of the Gryffindor second years were looking, but none could find the boy.

'I have a premonition about this,' Albus said. 'I didn't tell you before, but that boy tried to cast a wandless spell on me earlier. I deflected it, but he seems evil. I think he has slipped into the forest and could be helping his older brother.'

'Are you out of your mind, Albus?' Alabastor growled. 'How could a mangy little beast like that boy possibly do wandless magic? It is a skill even beyond some sixth and seventh years. And why would a defenseless child go into the Forbidden Forest? He could be eaten by a werewolf in one bite, or worse, turned into one.'

Most of the other second years nodded in agreement as Alabastor spoke.

'You make a fine argument, Alabastor,' Albus said, 'but I sensed that boy's power earlier. He seems to radiate power, much in the same way Grundelwald does, and my father.'

Alabastor snorted, but both William and Emily in particular looked more believing now.

'I must say, I thought I felt something strange when I saw him for the first time,' William said, stroking his hair back. 'You may be right, but that is one bold little rat if he has gone running into the Forbidden Forest to help his brother.'

'Why would Jannes Grundelwald want help from a little boy, anyway?' Alabastor said.

'Well that is precisely what worries me,' Albus said. 'I think the boy has gone out to harm Thomas or Anastacia.'

'So what are you going to do about it then?' Alabastor said. The acid in his voice had been neutralized a bit. He was looking at Albus with uncertainty; a little more like the willing friend Albus had known last year, instead of the jealous and angry boy that he had been this year.

'I think I should sneak into the Forest as well,' Albus said.

'But that would be cheating!' Emily said.

'No, I have no intention of helping Thomas,' Albus said. 'I just want to stop that white-eyed boy from doing anything to stop Thomas or Anastacia from competing against Jannes.'

'In that case,' Mars said shrewdly, 'you'd best make sure nobody sees you entering or leaving the Forest; especially not your father.'

'I assure you, Mars,' Albus said convincingly, 'I would rather I fail to stop that white-eyed boy than be caught coming out of the Forest by my father.'

'Do you even know your way around the Forest?' Victoria said, looking distraught.

'Of course,' Albus said. 'I went in to tend to the Everliving Oak numerous times. Besides, I will take Fawkes with me. He will help me to find that white-eyed boy.'

'But what will you do when you find him?' William asked. 'Do you know a good binding spell?'

'Yes,' Albus said, 'but it might take more than that. Perhaps I will have to duel him. Whatever I do, I just have to keep the boy occupied until after witching hour. That way, Thomas will be free to complete the Task on his own account.'

'You are bloody minded and brave,' William concluded. Even Alabastor was looking at Albus with newly restored respect. Albus did not ask if anyone wished to join him; he could tell by the looks on their faces that none would have come.

'Fawkes, come here,' Albus said softly. 'We have a job to do.'

The magnificent crimson phoenix appeared on Albus' knee without even a trace of flame. One of the things Albus liked best about his phoenix was how it managed to know when to make a quiet entrance. It stared at Albus with its mysterious eyes, gleaming and full of every colour but overwhelming dark and powerful. They communicated in this way, because Fawkes could confer messages to him through his wise eyes.

'What is he saying?' Victoria asked curiously.

'That the boy with the white eyes is presently stalking Thomas,' Albus said. 'My suspicious were correct. I will have to duel with him. Fawkes, we need to apparate to wherever that boy is.'

Albus looked at Victoria one last time and grasped hold of Fawkes' tail. In an instant he was whisked away. He found himself standing underneath a very tall, imposing pine tree. It was very dark, for the sun had set and none of the light on the horizon was getting through the dense foliage of the Forbidden Forest. Even the light of the moon was obscured. Albus lit up his wand and looked around.

Fawkes had vanished, leaving Albus alone amidst the trunks of hundreds of faceless trees. He looked around for the white eyed boy but realized that Fawkes would not place Albus in direct harm. He knew that the boy must be somewhere around here. So he closed his eyes and strained his ears, trying to hear the distinctive sound of a foot treading on crusted leaves.

He heard the soft sound of someone breathing. It could not be more than ten feet away. Albus opened his eyes. His wand was still glowing, so he defused it. The person stopped breathing. Albus realized that the boy must have seen Albus' wand-light and had been in the process of stalking him!

It took Albus a few moments to adjust his eyes to the darkness. When they did, he could vaguely make out the outlines of tree trunks. Standing in between two very wide trunks was the scrawny little boy. Albus guessed that he too must be struggling to come to terms with the darkness. He knew that he had to act fast.

'_Stupefy_!' incanted Albus. An instant later a wave of energy hit him in the chest. He flew backwards and his head connected with a tree trunk. Everything went black.

'…absolutely brilliant performance really, I wouldn't have believed it myself … yes, the Minister was very generous in giving you ten, but I suppose he is biased … but Dumbledore you'd expect to be the fairest marker, wouldn't you, and he gave you eight and a half … rotten of Admiral Schultz though, giving you three … so Jones-zee leads with forty points and Grundelwald has thirty nine, but Volkova only has thirty-five …yes, I thought she deserved more than the two points Lionel Wilberforce gave her. Our Minister for Magic takes parochialism a bit far, if you ask me… hey, quiet down, you lot, Dumbledore junior here is waking up.'

Albus opened his eyes and saw a cluster of Gryffindor sixth years standing around his bed. He was in the Hospital Wing. Apparently the sixth years had been discussing the results of the first Task. They looked down at Albus with barely discernable interest. The only one who seemed eager to see Albus awake was Thomas. His robes were mud-stained and torn, and he wore grazes on both cheeks, but more importantly he was grinning from ear to ear.

'What happened?' Albus mumbled.

'Jones-zee won the first Task!' exclaimed Ella Eades, one of the Gryffindor Chasers.

'No, he means what happened to him,' Thomas said, grinning even more widely. 'Well what I do know, Dumbledore, is that after I succeeded in reaching the finish line first, your distraught little second year mates came hurrying up to me, asking if I had seen you. My opponent Grundelwald also seemed a little upset in discovering that his little brother was missing. So we organized a search and within minutes your father had found you, and the boy, lying unconscious somewhere in the Forest.'

'My father found me?' Albus cried; his throat constricting.

'Yes, and the boy,' Thomas said. 'Whatever you two did to one another, you did it better, because he is still conked out.'

Albus looked over at the neighbouring bed. Jannes Grundelwald was sitting on the edge of the bed, next to the grey haired boy. The pillow was blood-stained. Albus guessed that they must have both cast stupefying spells at the same time, and both had been thrown backwards into tree trunks.

'So what were you doing in the Forest during the Task?' Thomas asked. Albus hesitated to answer. Jannes Grundelwald was within hearing distance, and Albus was scared to anger the hulking German. But his flippant side got the best of him.

'My phoenix told me that the boy was trying to track you down and jinx you so that his brother would win,' Albus said. 'So I went after him and we must have knocked each other out at the same time.'

'Are you accusing my brother of cheating?' Jannes Grundelwald said, rising from his brother's side and pushing through the crowd of Gryffindors. 'Zat is a very bold claim indeed, and one I contest is a lie.'

'Yes, I am,' Albus said, fixing the hulking German with a stare. Grundelwald's face went red and he snatched at his white wand. But Thomas and the other Gryffindors quickly had theirs out, and a mass dispute looked set to break out.

'Put your wands away!' commanded the powerful voice of Archaeon Dumbledore from the door of the Hospital Wing. He addressed them all as he marched across the wooden floor. 'Jones, you and your compatriots should be in Gryffindor Tower. A celebration awaits you. Grundelwald, I assure you that your brother is safe in the hands of Madam Rose, but you too should return to your school's compound. They, too, wish to celebrate with you.'

'I'll tell you about the Task later,' Thomas promised Albus, before his friends whisked him away. Grundelwald was more reluctant to leave, but leave he did. Albus found he was alone with his father; and the sleeping rat child to his left.

'Just so you know father, I had no intention of trying to treat on Thomas' behalf,' Albus said without taking a breath, 'this was entirely my own actions and I am profoundly sorry.'

'Do not be,' Archaeon said kindly. The great wizard sat down on Albus' bed beside him. Albus felt the warmth of Archaeon's power radiating from him. It always comforted him to be close to his father. Archaeon looked down on him with blue eyes glowing with pride. He said, 'your marvelous phoenix appeared before me once the Task was complete and informed me of your whereabouts. He also communicated to me the details of what happened in the Forbidden Forest.'

'So you know about Grundelwald trying to cheat?' Albus said. 'Are you going to disqualify him from the Tournament?'

'Albus, you surely appreciate that nobody is going to believe the word of a twelve year old, or even the "word" of a phoenix,' Archaeon said gravely. 'Neither will anyone believe that a ten year old boy is capable of any kind of magic at all, let alone magic dangerous enough to harm two Triwizard Champions.'

'So he will get away with it, then,' Albus said bitterly. He almost felt like sitting up and jinxing the scrawny little boy beside him with a curse to make his scars even more repulsive.

'No, he will not get away with it,' Archaeon said. 'I will be ensuring that this child does no further harm to the competition. From now on he will be under my watch during Tasks.'

'Who is he, anyway?' Albus said.

'He is indeed the younger brother of Jannes Grundelwald,' Archaeon said, frowning at the sleeping boy.

'What is his name?' asked Albus.

'Grindelwald Grundelwald,' Archaeon said. 'Peculiar name, but there you go.'

Albus shivered. He wanted to be out of the Hospital Wing, away from the creepy boy with the white eyes and the capacity to perform wandless magic. Archaeon seemed to sense Albus' discomfort.

'Now son, you ought to be running along to Gryffindor Tower,' Archaeon said. 'You have every right to share in the moment of Thomas' celebration.'

'Thank you, father,' Albus said. He gave his father a hug and threw off his blankets, running past a furious Madam Rose; who started loudly berating Archaeon for discharging her patient. Albus laughed happily as he ran off, feeling lighter than a feather quill.

Back in Gryffindor's common room there was bedlam. Aberforth's supply of Firewhiskies and Butterbeers had ensured that the House was lubricated and jovial. Merry songs were sung about the fire, and Thomas Jones seemed to be plastered with admirers everywhere he went. Albus quickly joined his fellow second years and received a full recount of how the Triwizard Champions had emerged from the Forest in order; Jones, followed by Grundelwald and lastly by Volkova; and how each had been awarded points by the judges. But the best part of the story, the one involving what Thomas had faced, had to wait until Albus could speak with Thomas alone.

That only happened at about five in the morning, when more than a few sluggish bodies lay strewn across the common room, and most of the second years were asleep in the couches; Annabel and William, Emily and Alabastor all notably comfortable on each others' shoulders. Victoria was sleeping next to Albus, but he extracted himself quietly and went off in search of Thomas, whom he'd seen escaping through the portrait hole a half hour earlier.

Albus found Thomas in his secret spot high up in the turret of the tallest tower.

'Oh, morning there, Albus,' Thomas said. 'I just had to get away; I have been forced to re-tell the story of my success about a hundred times.'

'Oh dear,' Albus said. 'That was what I came to ask you about!'

'Ah, never you mind,' Thomas said, 'I can tell it one more time for the man who saved my bacon! Twice, in fact! Not only did you provide me with the Orb, but you knocked out that little German rascal for me!'

'It was not anything you wouldn't do for someone else,' Albus said modestly.

'Well I thank you nonetheless,' Thomas said. 'Now; why don't you sit down and I'll tell you what happened in the Forest. We did well with the Orb, incidentally. I mistook at least one left turn for a right and one right turn for a left, but somehow the two mistakes seemed to cancel each other out. There was no such thing as a flesh-eating ghost, but I had to get past a black unicorn, would you believe? It had red eyes and I swear it would have stabbed me through had I not enchanted it with a sleeping spell. But that was not the worst thing I encountered; I tell you, that werewolf scared me half to death …'

And so Thomas recounted his dramatic adventure to Albus, who, for the second time in a week, fell asleep against Thomas' shoulder. This time Thomas was too exhausted to carry him back to Gryffindor Tower, so he too slept in the turret. Hardly a single Gryffindor slept in their actual beds that day; and it was day, for none woke up before mid-afternoon. Gryffindor's School Champion was winning the Triwizard Tournament!

Author's Note – Hope you all enjoyed that, and are enjoying where this tale is taking you. I am getting excited again by what the rest of the story offers. At a similar stage in "The Phoenix Feather" I got similarly excited by where the plot was heading. Things are looking up. Keep reading and reviewing, peoples!


	12. A Friendly Christmas

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Every new friend is another root in the ground"

Chapter 12 – A Friendly Christmas

The months of November and December leading up to Christmas passed by in a blur of snowstorms and icy winds. The excitement that had gripped Gryffindor House after Thomas Jones had made a winning start to the Triwizard Tournament faded once everyone realized that their Professors still had homework to give them, and that winter was setting in for good. It happened to be such a cold year that students could be seen conjuring blue fires in the corridors of Hogwarts, much to the chagrin of caretaker Odrick Olsen. The hunched old man could be heard rasping at countless students to 'put 'em out, you'll be a singe'n the stonework.' But the old pirate with his dozen ear-rings was fighting a losing battle.

The only people who seemed to handle the cold were the students of the Moskva Academy. They wore their heavy black coats and replaced their witch hats with furry grey caps, to and from their classes on the third floor. Professor Prewett had accommodated the visiting schools with classrooms for use during the weeks. Albus thought it made sense. After all, only one student from each school took part in the Tournament. The others had to have something to do.

The second years were being worked much harder than they had in first year, or so it felt to all of them. Each had a particular gripe about a certain subject or teacher, and so a lunchtime conversation at the Gryffindor table would often sound something along the lines of:

'I am despondent,' Victoria might say, 'for Charms is being most difficult at present. Professor Rolleston is progressing much too fast through _A Standard Book of Spells.'_

'Spells I can manage,' Emily would rejoinder, 'but Professor Solstice sets the standard much too high in Defense against the Dark Arts. The blocking spell for flying objects eludes me. I keep getting hit in the face by pillows. Oh stop laughing William, you are most immature.'

'The thing I find to be a challenge,' Albus would say, 'is Transfiguration. It frustrates me that I have both a wand suitable for it; willow is such a good material for transfiguring; and I have my father's book _A Better Way to Transfigure,_ yet I still cannot manage to transfigure a mammal into an object or vice versa.'

'That is because such a spell is at a fifth or sixth year level, Albus,' Alabastor would snort. 'So naturally it is beyond you.'

'But I managed to turn a feather into a phoenix …'

'Oh stop sniveling, Albus,' William would say, 'you find everything else impossibly easy. As for myself, I happen to find everything impossibly tedious, Herbology in particular. I mean to say, who gives an owl's hoot about plants?'

'That is not in the slightest bit boring when you compare it to History of Magic,' Annabel would say, sighing heavily. 'It has taken us three months to cover the eleventh century.'

'I thought that was interesting,' Albus would say, 'seeing as it was the period when Hogwarts was founded by Gryffindor and the others.'

'Interesting, maybe,' Edward might interject, 'but when it comes from the monotonous voice of one Professor Binns, then even the hardiest soul wilts into a deathless sleep.'

'I think Potions is worse,' Alabastor would growl, his arms folded across his chest. 'The fumes emanating from our cauldrons are enough to put me to sleep.'

'That's because you don't concoct your potions correctly,' Emily would snort, at which point in time Alabastor and Emily would have another one of their recurrent arguments. While they were doing that, Maggie always had a word to say.

'It isn't that Potions is a problem,' Maggie would say, 'it is that beastly Professor Rookwood who teaches it. Ever since she replaced Professor Fudge as Headmistress of Slytherin House, she has been perfectly horrid to us. I find it despicable the way she speaks to Annabel, Elizabeth and Edward, just because they haven't pure blood.'

'I know,' Elizabeth would concur. 'But I am more terrified of Professor Sinistra, to be honest. She has such frightful pale eyes. When they catch in the moonlight I think she must be a werewolf or something.'

'Her subject is worse,' Mars would contest. 'I am so tired by midnight Thursdays that I barely manage to keep my eyes open, let alone focus on magical instruments to read the heavens. Not that we have been reading the heavens much lately, seeing as it is always raining or snowing!'

'That is decidedly rich coming from you, Mars,' Albus would say, 'seeing as your name matches that of the Planet of War. I would have thought you delighted in Astronomy.'

'Almost as much as I delight in spilling your pumpkin juice all over you,' Mars would say, without ever fulfilling his threat. The Pirates had yet to overcome their fear of a massive reprisal by Professor Prewett should they engage in any mischief, so a food fight was totally out of the question.

'I cannot wait until the Tournament is over,' mischievous William would often whisper, 'then we can violate as many school rules as we wish to.'

Albus would always smile and nod when this topic came up, but deep down he wondered if the Pirates had a future at all. When he had founded them a year earlier, he had coined the name "The Guardians of Gryffindor, of Justice and Victory, Defenders of Truth and Pirates of Points Undeserved." Now that Professor Phineas Nigellus was deposed and Professor Prewett reigned over a fair Hogwarts, there was no judicious need to rob Slytherin or the other Houses of points. In fact, despite how the Pirates had cost Gryffindor four hundred points at the start of the year, Gryffindor was back in the lead in the House Championship, thanks in part to the Pirates winning two hundred and fifty points back, but also due to Thomas Jones' efforts in the Triwizard Tournament and Albus' knack of winning at least ten points a lesson for his consistently correct answers or perfect demonstrations of spells.

So with Gryffindor in the lead, without any need for Guardians of Justice and Victory or Defenders of Truth, and certainly no need for the Pirates of Points Undeserved to get Professor Prewett cross and go losing more points than they could possibly make other Houses lose; Albus had to concede that he did not see a future for the Pirates.

The idea began to occupy his thoughts at some length during the colder weeks of late November and early December, as Christmas approached and the walls of Hogwarts seemed to close in with winter's bleak skies. When the Gryffindors snuggled into their favourite couches and cushions in the common room to do their homework, the fireplace ablaze and the curtains drawn across the tall windows, Albus would pull out a spare piece of parchment and scribble down ideas. He would murmur them to himself under his breath, seeing which ones rolled off the tongue in a suitable fashion.

'_Dumbledore's Faction of Inspired Explorers, Adventurers and Magical Apprentices_,' he muttered to himself one such evening in the common room. 'No, _Faction_ sounds too rebellious. _Dumbledore's Army of Inspired …_ no, _Army_ sounds too militaristic. And perhaps I shouldn't make use of my own name. A club is, after all, about a group of people rather than one. Perhaps … _The Union of Explorers, Adventurers and Inspired Magical Apprentices …'_

'What was that about apprentices?' Victoria asked. She was standing beside him, trying to read what he was writing. Albus quickly tucked the parchment under his robe.

'Oh, nothing,' Albus said, cheeks flushing brighter the harder he tried to look casual. Victoria's eyebrows narrowed slightly but she said nothing to suggest she was angry.

'Can we borrow your Charms homework?' Victoria asked. 'Professor Rolleston did not explain the page-turning spell properly so I cannot write my essay on the precise wand-work and magical theory behind the spell.'

'Oh, that is not too hard,' Albus said, putting the idea for his new club out of his head and joining the girls on their couch to help them with their work. 'The page-turning spell requires the same kind of wand movement you would use to flick something aside, except that it requires dexterity. Remember, you are trying to get your wand to be as dexterous as your fingertips, something that isn't easy to do, but the principles behind it are simple enough …'

And so passed the weeks leading up to Christmas. Hogwarts relied on routine, and every day mimicked the previous day. There were breakfasts and classes and lunches and classes and hours in the library poring over magical texts and dinner and hours by the fire in the common room doing homework and then it was bedtime. The only decent part of every day was the period between getting into bed at night and falling into the arms of sleep. Albus would lie under the cozy comfort of his blankets, listening to the wind howling outside and feeling safe because Fawkes was crooning just a few feet away, and the walls of Hogwarts never let anything bad in. But still, no day stood out in the memory, and with the wind constantly howling outside and the sleet lashing against the castle walls, it seemed to Albus that November and December passed in a blurry haze.

Christmas was finally upon them; and without a reprieve in the atrocious weather. Still the snow and sleet came down in sideways gusts, the wind screaming like banshees and ghouls outside. A few brave souls like William, Alabastor and Emily had managed to find their way through the sleet to the carriages that came to take them home for Christmas, but for many there was no leaving Hogwarts. Certainly not for the older students, who had the Yule Ball to look forward to. For Albus and Mars this was perfectly suitable. Archaeon had informed Albus following the First Task that he and Lubo Dumbledore would be joining him and Aberforth for Christmas at Hogwarts. It was Archaeon's responsibility as judge to attend the Yule Ball on Christmas Eve, and he promised to spend Christmas lunch with his sons.

Christmas morning dawned in the second year common room to a chirpy song from Fawkes. Albus, Mars and Edward ripped open their bed-curtains to find a stack of presents each at the foot of their beds. Edward was staying because his muggle parents could not afford to send a carriage to Hogwarts; besides, the muggle driver would never be able to find the castle anyway, for it was hidden by numerous magical charms!

'I got a present from Thomas!' Albus exclaimed as he examined his pile. He opened it and discovered a broom polishing kit. There was a note attached.

'_Get cleaning your broom, Dumbledore,' _Thomas had written. _'Glastonbury is leaving at the end of the year; and we will need a permanent Seeker when Quidditch resumes next year. I intend to go out as a champion, so your broom had better be fast enough to handle you.'_

Albus smiled and set the kit down beside his broom, which was gathering dust at the base of his trunk. Bad weather aside; there was little point in flying without a Quidditch season. Albus next opened his present from Victoria, which turned out to be a framed picture of them both standing in the dappled shade of an oak. Victoria had got the Keeper of Keys, Mr Romulus Lupin, to take the picture some months ago. For some reason Albus' image was standing half in and half out of the picture, even though Victoria was still holding his hand. It was as though Albus' image did not want to be in the picture.

Albus burst out laughing when he opened his present from Aberforth. It was an oval tin container of Fizzing Whizzbees. But Albus had used magical ink to write underneath"Fizzing Whizzbees" the words _"Tainted with Fisky Whire". _Albus showed Mars and Edward, both of whom insisted on sampling the sweets. Albus had one too, and all three boys were giggling before long.

Last of all was Albus' parents' present. It looked small and flimsy beside his other gifts, and he wondered whether his parents had neglected him this year. On opening it, however, his apprehension changed to delight.

'Mars, my parents have bought us tickets to the Caerphilly Catapults versus the Haversfield Hawks!' Albus exclaimed, flapping the tickets in the air. 'It is on this Sunday, just before we go back to school, so I am sure we can go!'

'That is brilliant!' Mars exclaimed. 'Once again your parents have outdone mine. This year all they gave me was a pair of old English gumboots.'

'I suppose it was so that you might negotiate the mud and sleet,' Albus said thoughtfully, before breaking into a grin. 'At least, mate, you got things from me and a few other people.'

'You're right,' Mars said cheerfully. 'This year I don't care that my parents have neglected me as usual; I have plenty of friends in this place.'

'Don't we all,' Albus said, smiling broadly. 'Now do I smell Christmas breakfast brewing downstairs or do I smell Christmas breakfast?'

Edward, Mars and Albus made a mad dash for the door. They met a few dozen other grinning Gryffindors in the common room, all on their way to the Great Hall and chattering excitedly about their presents. This included Victoria, who gave Albus a crushing hug and a light kiss on the cheek for giving her a glowstone. A glowstone was a glassy rock that changed colour depending on the owner's mood, and changed brightness depending on the intensity of the mood. Were Victoria mildly happy, for instance, the glowstone would be a dull pink, but if she were extremely jealous it would glow a vivid green. Albus had sent Fawkes to recover one of these curious rocks the previous week, knowing that it was the sort of thing Victoria would like.

The Great Hall was decked to the walls with festoons of mistletoe and holly, with baubles of gold, silver and radiant colours strung across the ceiling in low arcs. A dozen Christmas trees lined the walls, each decorated with layers of sparkling spells. Even Albus' jaw had to drop. There was nothing physical actually decorating the trees, only spells and glittering faeries. The floating candles beneath the ceiling were also decorated with holly leaves. The Great Hall looked magnificent.

Two of the House tables had been brought together to create one large table around which all the students not at home for Christmas could sit and eat together. Albus and the other six Gryffindor second years slotted in place between the Slytherin second years and a few bleary eyed Moskva Academy students who looked like they had had about two hours of sleep. The music from the Yule Ball had kept all the juniors awake until the early hours of the morning, but Albus suspected that the fun had gone on longer. So it wasn't a surprise to see very few senior students at breakfast.

Albus found himself eating porridge with Victoria to his left and a dark haired boy named Swarbrick Snape to his right. Swarbrick was a second year Slytherin who seemed to keep to himself, even from the Slytherins. Although he sat with them that morning as he always did, it was at the end of the row of second years. Albus, who had a keen eye for what other people were doing, had noticed Swarbrick's apparent isolation. Today being Christmas, and the pair of them sitting together by happenstance, Albus took the opportunity to talk to him.

'I hope you got a decent collection of presents,' Albus said whimsically.

'As it happens,' Swarbrick grunted into his porridge, 'I received none, not that it is any of your business, Bumblebore.'

'Don't call him that!' Victoria snapped.

'Oh, Bumblebore sounds like a name I can tolerate,' Albus said, winking sideways at Victoria, who simply scowled. He turned back to Swarbrick and said, 'Have you got any plans for Christmas today?'

'Again,' Swarbrick grumbled, still not looking up, 'I have none that I wish to share with you. Kindly remove your crooked nose from my business.'

'I am not probing, Snape,' Albus said. 'I am merely enquiring out of interest. If you have no plans, perhaps you would care to join us.'

'Albus!' cried Victoria. She turned to gossip with Annabel, looking scandalized. Swarbrick did not reply, but Albus persisted.

'Do not feel like us being Gryffindors should have anything to do with it,' Albus said. 'You are welcome to join us, as are your Slytherin colleagues.'

'Why in the name of Salazar Slytherin would I wish to spend Christmas with you?' Swarbrick said, looking up at Albus for the first time with a scowl on his face.

'I just thought perhaps you would all enjoy a change in company,' Albus said. 'In fact, I am considering starting a club for students of all Houses; people who share an interest in adventure and becoming better witches and wizards.'

'That sounds ridiculous,' Swarbrick said, burying his nose in his porridge again.

'Perhaps it is,' Albus said mildly, 'but do consider it.'

Albus turned back to Victoria, who put her mouth close to his ear and started whispering fiercely at him.

'What do you think you are doing?' she said. 'I have no wish to spend my Christmas with the Slytherins! I rather hoped we would be spending Christmas together, seeing as this is our first Christmas as a couple.'

'As a matter of course, Victoria, I shall be spending time with you today,' Albus said, his face unmasking his uncertainty at how to deal with an angry girlfriend. 'However, my parents will also be here, and I thought that in the spirit of Christmas we should play games with the other Houses too.'

'Well I don't wish to do that,' Victoria said. She ceremoniously dumped her spoon in her porridge and left the table, a haughty nose raised in the air as she stormed away. Albus felt his cheeks warm and his eyes sink downward.

'There is nothing to be gained by fraternizing with a girl,' Swarbrick grunted next to Albus' shoulder. 'Their moods are more complicated than Professor Bones' transfiguration lessons.'

'You are correct there, Swarbrick,' Albus said, allowing himself a small smile. He shook Victoria out of his thoughts. After all, it was Christmas, and Albus had never had an unpleasant one. There was no reason to start now.

At lunch the Great Hall was much more crowded. This time all four House tables were brought together in the middle of the Hall to create a vast square table, about which everyone in attendance sat. Albus and Aberforth sat to the left of Archaeon and Lubo Dumbledore, who in turn were sitting next to the Minister for Magic, Lionel Wilberforce, and his plump wife Edna. The golden dishes filled with a sumptuous array of foods; roast beef, lamb, chicken and turkey, platters of gravy and bowls of mashed potatoes, steaming pots of soup, sweetmeats, spotted dick, cottage pie and flagons of every kind of soul-warming drink. Someone had invited leprechauns to the luncheon, and they were to be found running the length of the tables throwing handfuls of fake galleons in the laps of the eaters. Faeries fluttered down from the twelve Christmas trees to shower glittering spells on everyone's heads so that their hair and eyebrows sparkled like gold. And the room resounded with the chatter of several hundred voices and the clatter of cutlery on plates and dishes. Even Peeves the Poltergeist was well behaved, bowing obsequiously before Archaeon and wishing him a merry Christmas.

'Why thank you, Peeves,' Archaeon said pleasantly, 'I extend the same to you. Do behave yourself. I did speak of the consequences…'

'Yes, sir, Mister Dumbledore, sir,' Peeves muttered before swooping away. Albus leaned in front of Aberforth to speak to Archaeon.

'What did you threaten Peeves with, father?' Albus asked.

'Nothing to concern yourself with, my son,' Archaeon said, winking mischievously. 'Now, it is your responsibility to remind me, before I take you and your friend to the Quidditch match that I have to give you training in the art of protecting your possessions.'

'I have already protected them with …'

'_Silencio,'_ Archaeon said. Albus continued to mouth words but nothing came out. Archaeon went on, 'if you take a look across the table you will see that both Grundelwald and his unusual little brother have their eyes fixed upon our conversation. Now, Minister Wilberforce, about the muggles shipping Cleopatra's Needle to London, I strongly recommend we reclaim it as our rightful possession and ensure that the muggles are led to believe some other story …'

Albus and Aberforth had to entertain themselves by casting innocuous little spells at one another while Archaeon spoke to the Minister. Eventually, once everyone was stuffed to the brim with Christmas fare, Archaeon stood to address the entire Great Hall. This was no surprise to the Dumbledore boys. Their father had promised to do something "interesting" at the end of the meal.

'Merry Christmas to you all,' Archaeon said amicably. 'In particular to our guests from Moskva and the Black Forest, to the Minister for Magic and his delightful wife, and to Professor Prewett and the staff of Hogwarts. I am myself a guest here, as one of the judges for the Tournament. However, seeing as it is Christmas I think we should engage in some fun.

With a flick of his wand, Archaeon vanished the tables, complete with all the dishes and leftover food that the hardworking house elves had cooked up. He turned his wand to each of the Christmas trees and vanished them too, before looking up at the ceiling at saying in a loud voice, '_Crystallis precipitatus!'_

A gasp of wonder went up around the Hall. The ceiling started snowing. Within minutes a thick layer of snow covered the floor. Archaeon vanished all the chairs and anyone who was still sitting found themselves falling on their bottoms in the snow. Nobody needed an excuse to start rolling up snowballs and throwing them at their neighbour. Albus and the Pirates started battering one another with snow. Aberforth came up behind Albus and dumped two handfuls over his head. Archaeon went on better and used his wand to tip Aberforth and Albus upside down and dunk their heads in the snow. It took a sharply aimed tickling spell from Albus to distract Archaeon, but this backfired because both Albus and Aberforth landed headfirst in the snow, bums in the air.

The Great Hall resounded with laughter, boys' yelling and screams from the girls. Albus managed to catch Swarbrick Snape in the back of the head with a well thrown snowball, which got Swarbrick so enraged that he started flinging back snowballs with flicks of his wand. This was just the excuse for the Slytherins to engage the Gryffindors in a full-blown battle, but that was precisely what Albus had been hoping for. The hostility of the previous year was strangely absent, probably due to the absence of Noxious Black who was at home for the holidays, and the Slytherins and Gryffindors both laughed and whooped with every successful snowball strike.

It was one of the most memorable Christmases ever!

Author's Note – a little bit of Christmas fun before the plot rolls into the crucial final stages. We are at Chapter 12 and I suspect that this story will end up being about twenty chapters just like the first one in the Albus series.

Please read and review. Reviews have been strangely down lately and I only write when I get the impression that someone is reading my story. If nobody reviews, then I begin to wonder whether it is worth carrying on. I am VERY busy, and so this story is one of my lesser priorities. Please review and remind me that it is worth telling this story. Thank you!


	13. Quidditch Mayhem

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a fan fiction based on worlds created by JK Rowling

"Knowledge is learned, wisdom is earned"

Author's Note: thanks to those who reviewed. I won't ask for reviews again if I can help it. I suppose it's the nature of the insecure author to seek approval all the time! Someone raised a point about how Snape's magical ancestry is Prince, not Snape. Well, if you look back at "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather", I introduced Swarbrick Snape. That was written before "Half Blood Prince" came out, so you cannot blame me for that mistake. But from now on Swarbrick Snape will simply be a Slytherin who may or may not be distantly related to the muggle Tobias Snape who had a son called Severus. I do not wish to oppose canon, but it was not my fault because "Half Blood Prince" came out after I wrote my first Albus Dumbledore fic.

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Chapter 13 – Quidditch Mayhem

The day following Christmas, Archaeon paid a visit to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory at the rather early hour of five. When he flung Albus' curtains aside and put the glowing tip of his wand right in Albus' face, Albus woke with a start, grasping the air as if trying to catch something invisible.

'I had it … it was there …' Albus was mumbling to himself, before the great bearded figure of his father swam into view. Albus sat bolt upright. 'Father, what … why are you here?'

'Taking you for instruction,' Archaeon said. He had a mildly curious look on his bronzed face. 'What, precisely, were you just about to capture in your dream?'

'I … I cannot recall,' Albus said, scratching his head. He knew that he had been within reach of something, something that had featured in his dreams throughout the year. But he could never quite remember what it was. The glowing tip of Archaeon's wand had burst through his eyelashes like a beam of light and ruptured his dream at the very moment of victory. Now Albus sat in his bed feeling strangely deflated.

'Up you get, boy,' Archaeon said, rising to his feet. The great wizard was wearing a shimmering blue robe today, tied with a golden rope around the waist. He wore a matching blue wizard's hat over his greying auburn hair. Archaeon wandered over to Fawkes' stand and stroked the crooning phoenix whilst Albus got into his black school robes. Archaeon mused out loud, 'I recall many a night spent dreaming in this room. Ah, young was I then, and old am I now.'

'You're not old, father,' Albus said, locating his wand amid the shambles of parchment on his trunk.

'Perhaps not ancient,' Archaeon said, 'like the relics I dig up, but I am getting on in years. Coming back here reminds me of a youth long forgotten. Now follow me, we are going to the transfiguration class today. Leon permitted me the use of it.'

Albus and Archaeon made their way down the stairwell, across the dimly lit Gryffindor common room and through the portrait hole. Once they were in the solitary calm of the corridors, only the sound of their shoes clicking on the cobbled stone, Albus exulted in the warmth that exuded from his father. It may have been the middle of winter, with icy draughts licking at his heels, but in the presence of Archaeon, Albus felt nothing but warmth and comfort.

Archaeon held the door to the transfiguration class open and Albus entered ahead of him. Professor Bones covered his walls with tapestries painted with scenes from historic moments of wizard-kind, but in the dim morning light before sunrise, these looked dark and foreboding. Archaeon swept his arm around the room and all the torch brackets lit up with dazzling yellow flames. He made all the chairs and table relocate to the walls, giving them a large open space to work with. But before they started to do anything, Archaeon checked the entire room for detection spells and performed a sound-blocking charm on all the doors, windows and walls.

'Do you have with you your most precious possessions?' Archaeon asked.

'No,' Albus replied, 'and neither can I tell you where they are.'

'You do not know where you hid them?' said Archaeon.

'No, I do not,' said Albus, 'but I know which portrait to ask in order to find them again. I could show you if you wish.'

'That won't be necessary,' Archaeon said. 'I will test the strength of your magic. _Legilimens!'_

Albus felt the unusual sensation of his thoughts being probed. He had a fleeting moment of fear that Archaeon would discover his deep feelings for Victoria, but this fear was quickly dispelled when he realised that Archaeon was such a powerful Legilimens that he only found what he wanted to find in someone else's mind. Albus could see the portrait of Albion Dumbledore in his head, and he could see himself climbing into the portrait to fetch his belongings. But the vision did not stop there. Albus knew this was in his head, but he could have sworn that his body felt like it was inside the portrait. Now Albion, the painted old figure with the familiar blue eyes, was opening his mouth to speak …

'In your pockets, boy …'

Albus felt the weight of several items pressing against his leg in the pocket of his robes. The moment he felt it, he realised that they had been there all along. Albus had been carrying them for months. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the shiny Orb of Duality, the sapphire ankh and the protective Eye of Horus locket. They were all there, and had been since he hid them. Albus looked up at Archaeon with a kind of awe that he reserved for nobody but his father in moments like these.

'How did you do that?' he asked. 'How did you make me climb into the portrait when we have been in the Transfiguration room all along?'

'The spell you used to hide your belongings simply masked the memory,' Archaeon explained. 'I simply had to manipulate your thoughts to think that you were visiting the portrait and you remembered the secret. Any wizard capable of Legilimency could have done that.'

'But who would do that to me? Who would want to steal those things from me?' Albus said. He had received letters of warning from his father before, but now that he had him in person, he wanted to hear the words from Archaeon's mouth.

'Use your common sense,' Archaeon said. 'All those who suffered as a result of your victory over Imhotep and the disgracing of Phineas Nigellus, namely Phineas himself; and some of his powerful cronies at the Ministry.'

'Are you suggesting that Minister Wilberforce could be after me?' Albus said, hardly believing the suggestion.

'I am not ruling it out,' Archaeon said grimly. 'But I think our attentions should also be focussed upon our Russian and German guests. Do not be fooled by the pretence that this Triwizard Tournament is about international magical cooperation. Both those Headmasters are trying to extract as much information about British magic as they can while they are here. We cannot trust them, the Germans in particular.'

'In that case, what about Jannes Grundelwald?' said Albus.

'Entirely possible, yes,' Archaeon said. 'Although before you suggest it, I am quite certain that the white-eyed boy Grindelwald is incapable of Legilimency at this time.'

'Oh I know that he can't,' Albus said. 'When I met him in the Forbidden Forest, we were both trying to probe each other's minds, but it was just a tickling feeling that I felt, not like when you climbed into my head.'

'Interesting,' Archaeon said, tugging upon his beard. 'I was not expecting you to be ready for Legilimency just yet. In that case, I may be able to arrange for you to have lessons in Legilimency and Occlumency, the art of blocking intrusion to your thoughts; next year.'

'Really?' exclaimed Albus, thrilled at the prospect. He was more excited by the approving smile that Archaeon gave him. Achieving the approval of his great father meant a great deal to Albus.

'Yes, I think that you will be ready by then,' Archaeon said, ruffling Albus' hair. 'But for the time being, we must concentrate on safely guarding those objects, in such a manner that nobody can connive to steal their whereabouts from you.'

'But I was so proud of the Portrait Gatekeeper spell,' Albus said.

'And I am proud that you succeeded in making it work,' Archaeon said, 'for it is a most challenging spell. But do not feel at a loss, because we may yet be able to make use of that spell in our plans to deceive our enemies.'

'What do you mean to say?' asked Albus.

'I believe that we can hide some objects of lesser value using the Portrait Gatekeeper spell,' Archaeon said, 'and thereby mislead our enemies. If any of them tries to steal your secret from you by probing your thoughts, they will be taken to the portrait and those objects.'

'But what will come of the real objects,' Albus asked, 'the Eye, the Orb and the ankh? Can I not just leave them in your possession? They would be much better protected in your care.'

'That they would,' Archaeon said, 'but do you not see my plans? I would have thought you would have been astute enough to realise that I am the target of our enemies, far more than you. With due respect, no dark wizard would take pride in defeating a twelve year old student, but our enemies would love to see me fall. As I am a target, these things are better off in your care.'

'But you said that I am a target myself,' Albus said.

'A target of revenge for Phineas Nigellus,' Archaeon said, 'but I doubt any of them can know what you possess. That is why I gave the protective Eye of Horus locket to you at the commencement of the year.'

Albus paused for a moment to think very carefully. Something was dawning on him.

'At the start of the year,' Albus said slowly, 'I had the sapphire ankh, which was one of many and surely not that special, and I had the Eye of Horus locket. It was you who took the Orb of Duality off me before you knew what it was. So at the start of the year, I had nothing that would interest these enemies. Did you know what the Orb was from the beginning?'

'Of course I did,' Archaeon said, smiling at his son's problem solving skills. 'I am a widely travelled wizard and I have long known of the Orb and its powers. I took it off you because I had to determine why Fawkes brought it to you, and I had to decide what to do with it. Eventually I realised that you were the person best placed to keep it. Mind you, both the ankh and the locket are fairly significant possessions too, and I am certain that someone like Grundelwald would not mind procuring them as well.'

'But why must I have all these things?' Albus wondered. 'Why do I have to be responsible for items that must be hidden from all these bad people? Are you putting me in danger, father?'

'I am not putting you in any position greater than you can handle,' Archaeon said. 'It is vital that you understand this. You cannot yet understand what part you have to play in proceedings. It is not something I can explain to you at this time. All you need to know is that the Orb, the Eye of Horus and the ankh belong to you, and must be protected by you. And thus we arrive at our task for today. I am going to teach you a spell of concealment that none but you can break.'

'But what if someone puts me under the _Imperius_ curse?' Albus said. He could feel the panic rising in his throat like bile. Suddenly he felt like he was the centre of the world, with a million eyes trained on him. Being the sole protector of items that Archaeon Dumbledore deemed to be important; made him feel out of his depth. He was not ready for such responsibility.

'You are allowing yourself to fall prey to your fears,' Archaeon said. 'Do not be weak. May I remind you that there are others in this place that has your protection at heart? They would all die before letting you succumb to an _Imperius _curse. Now, let us commence our lesson on concealment spells. It is imperative that you learn this spell before we depart Hogwarts for this Quidditch match.'

'What, could I be attacked there?' asked Albus in a decidedly shaky voice.

'It is unlikely,' Archaeon said, 'but possible. Nevertheless put it out of your mind so we can commence.'

Albus tried his very best but could not completely displace the uneasy feeling that came to rest inside his stomach during his lesson with Archaeon. His father was an instructor of the highest quality, however, and it crossed Albus' mind on numerous occasions that Archaeon would have made an exceptional Professor at Hogwarts. This made the privilege of being Archaeon Dumbledore's son ever the more apparent.

The spell Archaeon chose to teach Albus was derived from Archaeon's intensive studies of Egyptology, as he explained during the lesson. It was known as the _Amon-hen,_ and the reverse spell was the _Amon-nu. _As Archaeon explained, the word _Amon_ meant 'conceal', the word _hen _confirmed it, and the word _nu_ meant to 'undo'. The _Amon-hen_ was such a complex spell that a Legilimens would not simply be able to reach into Albus' head and find the hidden objects. Albus could not understand why, but he supposed that Archaeon should be seen to be more reliable than a book given to him by Aberforth entitled _A Guide to Magical Secret Keeping!_

It took Albus the whole morning, and by lunchtime he was positively drooling out of hunger. But Archaeon was using the prize of food as a reward mechanism to keep his son at the task at hand. Shortly after twelve o'clock, Albus succeeded in correctly performing the _Amon-hen_ and the counter-spell _Amon-nu _three times in succession.

'_Amon-hen,'_ Albus chanted, twirling his wand three times counter-clockwise with his entire arm making a snake like movement. A jet of gold shot out of the tip and encircled the Orb, the Eye of Horus and the ankh. The objects glowed brighter for a moment, and then faded until they were invisible. Yet, as though these things were an extension of Albus' body, he knew where they were and was able to pick them up and place them in his pockets. Archaeon attempted Legilimency on Albus and declared himself satisfied that the knowledge of these objects was irretrievable, thanks to the power of the _Amon-hen_, and finally Albus pulled out the objects and brought them back into focus with the _Amon-nu._

'Exceptionally well done,' Archaeon said, clapping Albus on the shoulder. 'My work here is done. Perform the _Amon-hen_ one more time, and leave the objects hidden until such a time as you need them. Right now, I feel we are both in need of a five course luncheon in the Great Hall.'

Albus had never agreed more with his father. He concealed the objects once more, placed them in his pocket and followed Archaeon down to lunch.

* * *

A few days after Albus had learned to hide his possessions with the _Amon-hen, _Archaeon got him to hide a broken Bludger, a tattered text book and a scummy sock with the Portrait Gatekeeper, as a ruse to distract anyone who might attempt to search the depths of Albus' mind. Thereafter it was time to attend the Quidditch Match between Albus' beloved Caerphilly Catapults and the championship-topping Haversfield Hawks.

Archaeon had arranged for a thestral-drawn carriage to meet them at the gates of Hogwarts. Lubo was dressed in a radiant white gown and Archaeon in his luminescent blue. Mars wore his black school robes, as did Victoria and Aberforth. It had apparently been Lubo's idea to invite Victoria, something that Albus was painfully shy about. Albus himself was wearing his Caerphilly Catapults uniform. Though the vertical scarlet and light green stripes did not match his blue eyes and auburn hair, Albus thought he looked quite spiffing in his reflection on the carriage windows. He shuffled into a seat next to Mars and Victoria, but tried not to look too comfortable next to her given that his parents were sitting directly opposite him in the carriage. As with all magical forms of transportation, the carriage appeared tiny from the outside but was most spacious within, and a warm and cozy atmosphere within replaced the icy winds outdoors.

'Are you all ready to depart?' Archaeon inquired. When everyone nodded ascension, Archaeon tapped his wand on the window and the carriage lifted off into the air. He beamed at everyone in the compartment and said, 'now, who cares for a little night music whilst we take in the white winter from the air?'

There was to be no arguing with Archaeon Dumbledore, and soon a string quartet of musical house elves appeared in the corner of the cabin and started playing a haunting yet strangely familiar strain.

'Ah, classical music,' Archaeon said, interlocking his fingers over his lap and closing his eyes as if in paradise. 'One of the muggles' greatest inventions.'

'Muggles did this?' Victoria said, a touch too haughtily for Albus' liking. He nudged her fiercely, prompting her to frown at him and then retreat into a confused silence. Albus wondered why the feelings were racing through him, but somehow everything Victoria was doing presently irked him. He could not reconcile the fact that he was simply nervous about her in his parents' presence.

Fortunately Mars, who launched into the most avid diatribe Albus had ever heard from him, interrupted Albus' confused thoughts. This was the most Albus had ever heard from his placid friend, but when it came to the subject of Quidditch…

'I absolutely love it,' Mars expounded. 'Whensoever my parents were preoccupied, I would sneak off down the road to the local Quidditch field, where the older kids would play. One of them is now Alphonso Redpath, the Seeker for the Haversfield Hawks … you know we live near Haversfield, so this is something of a Dumbledore versus McGonagal encounter, wouldn't you say?'

'It sounds that way,' Albus said, smiling.

'I will let you in on a truly fascinating secret,' Mars said, dropping his voice conspiratorially. Naturally Aberforth leaned in closer, the better to hear. Mars went on, building up tension in his voice, 'it is little known, and few have aught heard of it. As a matter of fact, only three people alive have yet to hear of it. Two have had their minds befuddled by _Imperius_ curses, and I am the sole person with more than three nuts in my skull and the knowledge of this secret.'

Albus was virtually bursting with curiosity. Suddenly Archaeon let out an inexplicable guffaw.

'What is so funny, father?' Albus cried. 'And Mars, won't you just tell me the secret already?'

'The benefits of Legilimency, my son,' Archaeon said, still chuckling. Albus grabbed Mars by the shoulder and demanded that he reveal the secret.

'Very well,' Mars said heavily. 'The secret is … Haversfield will beat Caerphilly today by one hundred and eighty to ten.'

'That's … that's not a secret … that's a blatant fiction!' Albus exploded. Archaeon burst out in guffaws again as Mars and Albus wrestled to the floor of the carriage, both forgetting what it was they were fighting about and rejoicing in the opportunity to play the fool as boys so willingly do.

When, at last, they were seated again and had straightened their robes, Archaeon had his eyes closed again and was concentrating on the classical music, but Lubo was watching Albus with a slight smile on her serene face.

'You never told me that you loved Quidditch so passionately,' Albus said to Mars. 'In fact, barely do you ever speak of it.'

'That is purely out of habit,' Mars said. 'At home I wouldn't dare speak of it, for fear of being caught sneaking out of the house to watch the players on the Quidditch pitch. And at Hogwarts … I suppose there are always better things to talk about than Quidditch.'

'Better things than Quidditch of which to speak?' Albus exclaimed. 'You jest me!'

'Oh, boys,' Victoria snorted.

'Oh, boys,' Aberforth parried, putting on a high pitched squeal. Lubo jolted him with a spell from her wand and Victoria simultaneously hit him with a bat bogey hex. For the second time that evening the carriage rocked with laughter as Aberforth screeched and howled over the sound of the violins, his nose a factory of little winged bats.

Eventually the Dumbledore carriage touched down outside a rickety wooden Quidditch stand, to the side of a pitch slated with ice. They were at the home of the Haversfield Hawks, which, as Mars explained, was short of a mile from where his parents lived, although he doubted they would make an appearance at a mid-winter Quidditch match. As they marched up the stairs into the stand, the wood creaking ominously about them, Albus wondered if the stand could hold one person, let alone a few hundred onlookers at a Quidditch match.

The Dumbledores had procured tickets in the uppermost seats of the stand, where Lubo conjured a radiant blue flame to keep their hands warm and a bubble around them all to keep out the icy wind. As the Haversfield Hawks took flight (to cheers from Mars and almost everyone else in the stand), followed by the Caerphilly Catapults in their striped crimson and green, Albus shivered for them. The wind was carrying across streams of icy rain or snow in sheets. It was sleeting and the howl of the wind caused the planks of the stand in which they stood creak and groan.

'… wonderful start by the Hawks, Chaser Donnelly scores to put them ten-nil up after a few minutes,' cried the commentator.

'What did I forecast,' Mars said, beaming.

'You speak in haste,' Albus said, 'for the Catapults have the spirit of Dangerous Dai Llewellyn in their blood, they shall not go down quietly!'

'You boys are ridiculous,' Victoria said, but she was grinning and cheering as loudly as any.

'You boys are…' Aberforth began, but he was cut short by a sudden jolt that struck all of them off their balance, even Archaeon. A horrendous creaking noise was followed by a snap and then Albus was falling. Planks were flying past him and there were arms and legs and screaming and now his face was hit by an icy jet of wind and…

Albus felt a strong arm grip him around his wrist. He opened his eyes and looked into the grim and square-jawed face of Jannes Grundelwald. Grundelwald opened his mouth and said:

'_Accio _Portkey.'

* * *

Author's Note: Enjoy. I will hopefully update this weekend. 


	14. A Black Deception

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"In truth and lies there is a truth and a lie but which is the truth?"

* * *

Chapter 14 – A Black Deception

The swirling of light and sound ceased and Albus became aware that his feet had touched down on solid ground again. He could still feel Jannes Grundelwald's hand clenched around his thin arm. Albus slowly opened his eyes to discover that he was inside the turret of a castle, though, this was clearly not Hogwarts. The stones were black with soot and the walls were hung with manacles. A grate in the window offered little solace of escape. But then, Albus thought, I can apparate …

'_Arresto spiritus!'_ cried another, deeper voice. Albus felt his skin tingle with the force of a spell, and when he attempted to disapparate back to the gates of Hogwarts, he remained exactly where he was. He tried again, but it was in vain. The voice spoke again in a heavy German accent, 'you may release him, Jannes. He will not escape.'

Jannes Grundelwald let go of Albus and he immediately felt a rush of blood back into his arm, which had gone heavy under the German's crushing grip. He looked into the shadows at the far side of the cylindrical room and saw a man dressed in what looked like a muggle's military outfit, complete with silvery badges on the chest and shoulders. It was Admiral Wolfgang Scholtz, Headmaster of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts!

'What are you doing with me?' demanded Albus, but his question was interrupted by several loud popping sounds in quick succession. A couple of boys in the red undergarments and silver robes of the School of Magical Arts appeared next to Grundelwald, as did his white-eyed little brother. Grindelwald gazed at Albus with cool, undisguised interest, but his expression was changeless. A man had appeared next to Admiral Scholtz. He had an all too familiar face with dark features and an angry disposition. It was Phineas Nigellus, formerly Headmaster of Hogwarts.

'You!' cried Albus, but he was ignored for the second time. He searched in his pockets for his wand but could not find it. He realized with a sinking feeling that he had left it in his dormitory prior to the Quidditch match.

'So the job is complete?' Phineas asked. His voice reminded Albus strongly of Slytherin House winning undeserved points toward the House Championship.

'Ja, it is as planned,' replied one of Grundelwald's schoolmates. 'The stand collapsed and it was made to look as if it were an accident.'

'And what of Dumbledore senior?' asked Phineas.

'He disapparated before we could stun him,' said the German student. 'He was badly wounded in the fall, however.'

'That is not as we planned,' Phineas said, kicking a manacle so hard that it reached the end of its tether and rebounded back against the wall with a clang. 'I wanted him stunned and captured so that we could torture the boy in his presence until he yielded the answers I want to hear!'

'It is not entirely a defeat,' Admiral Scholtz said. 'The primary objective was the boy, ja?'

'That is true,' Phineas conceded, his dark eyes narrowing on Albus. 'For if your students' eavesdropping has been accurate, this worthless boy holds the key to my victory over Dumbledore.'

'Our victory,' Admiral Scholtz said chidingly.

'Yes, but yours is a victory towards a greater aim,' Phineas said, 'whereas mine will be a victory of vengeance. I will have my retribution over Dumbledore for the manner in which I was disgraced last year, and I will kill this boy when we are done with him in revenge for his part in it.'

'I cannot see how this child managed to defy both you and Imhotep,' Admiral Scholtz said. Despite his strong German accent Albus could not help but notice how clearly he spoke the English language. It was as though he had taken education here at some point.

'He was fortunate,' Phineas said bitterly, but the white-eyed child had something to say.

'He is nearly as good as me,' Grindelwald said. Albus felt his cheeks glow red as the others looked at the white-eyed boy. Albus rarely thought highly of himself, and thought he was quite a modest chap. But this beastly ten year old was speaking a little too highly of himself if he thought he was better than Albus. Albus desperately wished he had his wand with him, because Grindelwald deserved a spell in the eye.

'I do not care how good he may or may not be,' Phineas snorted. 'If you will, I would like to be done with this business, so can we extract the necessary items from this brat?'

'Very well,' Admiral Scholtz said. 'It would be prudent to be getting back to Hogwarts very presently, after all.'

The muggle-dressed Headmaster strode towards Albus, his wand held aloft. He started casting various charms, beginning with the rudimentary _'Accio _Orb', until he got serious and started probing Albus' mind with the _Legilimens_ charm. Albus felt as though fingers were pushing his brain around, and images of almost everything that was important to him flashed through his head. Admiral Scholtz was clearly not as skilled as Archaeon at Legilimency, but Albus nonetheless felt horribly exposed. It was as though he were naked in front of a vast audience, with a cold wind blowing. He found himself thinking of Albion Dumbledore's portrait at Hogwarts, and the thought that something was hidden there crossed his mind. Admiral Scholtz stepped back, a triumphal look upon his face.

'The objects are hidden within the confines of a portrait at Hogwarts,' Admiral Scholtz said to the others in attendance. 'It is through the simple use of a Portrait Gatekeeper charm that the objects are concealed.'

'If that were the case, we would need the boy to retrieve them,' Phineas said, but he was staring straight at Albus who had forgotten not to smile in relief, 'but given that Dumbledore is delighted that you "discovered" the Portrait Gatekeeper charm suggests to me that this is just a ruse. I suspect that his father has used a more potent charm to protect those items. Try again, Wolfgang.'

Admiral Scholtz frowned but did as he was told. Once more Albus felt his thoughts being tinkered with, like pieces of parchment being rifled through by an intruder into someone's house.

When Admiral Scholtz had failed to break through Albus' _Amon-hen_ curse, which kept Albus from thinking that the objects were concealed in his pockets, so that Admiral Scholtz could not figure it out through Legilimency, the German Headmaster stepped back and addressed his companions in crime. He looked flustered.

'That accursed man has used some sort of Egyptian magic to protect the objects,' Admiral Scholtz grunted. 'There is no breaking his defenses. That said, I have discovered much about this brat that he would not want us to know. He loves the girl Moody in his year, his phoenix can be found in an Everlasting Oak in the Forbidden Forest and he dreams of the Everlasting Flame.'

'That is convenient,' Phineas said wickedly, 'seeing as it is the Flame we are after.'

Albus swallowed hard. His father's suspicions were now confirmed, but they were worse than he had imagined. Phineas and his cronies in the Ministry appeared to be working in tandem with the Germans in an attempt to steal the Everlasting Flame, which Albus now realized that Archaeon must possess. In the summer holidays Albus had found the empty vessel for the Flame and Archaeon had pretended that he did not know where it had gone to. But Albus now knew: Archaeon had hidden it for safekeeping, and this is what their enemies wanted to uncover. This was beyond the Orb and a few protective devices in Albus' care – this was about the Everlasting Flame. Albus realized that Phineas and Admiral Scholtz wanted the Orb in order to find a truth and a lie about where the Everlasting Flame was, and from there, they would do whatever it took to locate it.

'I have an idea,' Jannes Grundelwald said eagerly. The wide-shouldered Triwizard Champion had been shuffling his weight from foot to foot, clearly disappointed that the two older wizards were excluding him from the magical interrogation of the boy that he had captured. He said, 'we could torture and kill the girl, destroy the phoenix and scatter its ashes, or we could give him the option of revealing his secret to us.'

Albus felt a chill through to his core, but it came not from Jannes Grundelwald's words, but from the look of evil greed on Grindelwald's face. The white-eyed boy looked positively delighted at the prospect of inflicting harm on someone Albus found dear to him.

'That would take too long to enforce,' Phineas said, discarding Grundelwald's opinions immediately. 'I want the Orb now, and I want to kill this child thereafter. Feel free to torture and kill the Moody girl if you wish, you Germans have a lot to fear from her parents – they are developing magical defenses for Britain in case of war between our nations.'

'You unpatriotic monster!' cried Albus suddenly. He was staring at Phineas Nigellus with undisguised hatred. How could a former Headmaster of Hogwarts, no matter how corrupt, be prepared to connive so openly with Germans? Was he honestly prepared to see German wizards conquer Britain? As though he were reading Albus' thoughts, Phineas replied accordingly.

'In the future, you obscene brat,' Phineas said viciously, 'nations will not be decided by race but by power. In this world there are two things; bloodline and power. Provided pureblooded Germans rule England, I would heartily follow provided I was given the powers I have long thirsted for.'

'You reveal too much,' Admiral Scholtz said, putting a hand on Phineas' shoulder. 'Should this boy escape, he will know far too much of our plans.'

'He will not escape,' Phineas said. 'He dies now, but first … _Imperius!'_

Albus felt a sudden desire to cast the _Amon-nu _spell and reveal the concealed objects in his pockets. But he had no wand.

'I need a wand,' Albus said.

'Oh for heaven's sake,' Phineas cried. He pointed at one of the German students, who came forward reluctantly with a wand for Albus.

Albus' hand was a few inches away from taking hold of the wand when a flash of light accompanied the arrival of Fawkes in mid-air in front of him. Instead of grabbing the wand, as Phineas' _Imperius_ curse was instructing him to, Albus grabbed hold of Fawkes' tail. The phoenix disapparated instantly, taking Albus with him.

* * *

Fawkes set Albus gently down on a couch in the Dumbledore living room, all the way back in Wales. Why Fawkes had chosen to place Albus there, he did not know, but needless to say, their sudden appearance gave the Dumbledore house elf a tremendous fright. Nibs fell over in shock, before getting up, apologizing profusely for his rudeness and hurrying off to fetch Albus tea and biscuits. Albus had to laugh, it was he who should be apologizing for making a rude entrance, but the laughter came mainly from the sense of relief he felt at having escaped death. Had Fawkes arrived a minute later, Albus would have performed the _Amon-nu­, _revealed the Orb and been killed by Phineas Nigellus.

Fawkes nuzzled Albus' cheek and then gazed into his eyes, communicating that he had to locate Archaeon now, and that he would return shortly. Albus stroked Fawkes gratefully. It disapparated; leaving him alone in the Dumbledore living room in front of a blazing fire.

Thoughts raced through Albus' head as he tried to make sense of what had just occurred. Naturally he was a little bit put out by the fact that Archaeon had been lying to him about the whereabouts of the Everlasting Flame, but in the next instant his logic had the better of him. Had Albus known the whereabouts, then Admiral Scholtz's Legilimency would have unveiled the secret. Archaeon was too great a wizard to reveal all of his secrets to his twelve year old son, Albus surmised, rather wisely he felt.

His thoughts turned to their enemies. Jannes Grundelwald had sacrificed his chance to win the Triwizard Tournament by kidnapping him and helping his Headmaster and Phineas in their plot to defeat Archaeon and steal the Everlasting Flame. At least, that was how Albus saw it. He was certain that Jannes would have to be expelled from the Tournament now. Not to mention Phineas Nigellus and Admiral Scholtz being thrown into shackles and deported to Germany, or better yet, Azkaban. Maybe Noxious would be sent there too; Albus thought hopefully. After all, Noxious had been boasting at the start of the year how he was going to move to a "better school" after the Triwizard Tournament.

Archaeon Dumbledore apparated into the room with a swirl of his handsome blue robes. Fawkes also appeared again, taking residence on Albus' shoulder and crooning tones of comfort in his ear. Albus gave Archaeon a quick appraisal and realized that the great wizard did not appear hurt after all.

'Father, I thought you had been injured in the stand's collapse?' asked Albus. 'At least, that's what one of the School of Magical Arts students said.'

'I beg your pardon?' Archaeon said, sitting down beside his son and taking him into a tight embrace. 'Fawkes has conveyed very little to me, so you are going to have to start from the beginning. Do not worry about me; I am quite competent at healing my own injuries.'

'What about mother?' Albus asked, realizing that he had quite forgotten about everyone dear to him. 'And what of the others; are Victoria, Mars and Aberforth alright?'

'They are all convalescing at St Mungo's,' Archaeon said, 'as are the numerous other victims of the accident. Now tell me what happened to you; I have been frantic with concern since you disappeared.'

Albus launched into a full recollection of what had happened from the moment Jannes Grundelwald kidnapped him to the instant Fawkes had appeared and saved the Orb from being revealed and him from being killed. When he was finished, Archaeon was gripping him tightly and shaking with rage.

'This is an outrage of the highest order,' Archaeon said. 'I should have realized by Phineas' willingness to associate with a dead Egyptian Dark Lord that he would readily turn to the next best dark power from Germany.'

'Is Admiral Scholtz a Dark Lord?' asked Albus.

'No,' Archaeon said firmly, 'but he is recruited by the German Ministry of Magic to train them. Surely you can see the darkness within the Grundelwald brothers as a sure example of what the future holds? This is worse than I had feared. Come, Albus, we must go at once to Hogwarts. I must summon the five judges and Grundelwald for a tribunal.'

'But Admiral Scholtz is one of the judges,' Albus said.

'You do not need to tell me that,' Archaeon said grimly. He grabbed Albus by the arm and for the third time that day, Albus felt himself being wrenched to another location by disapparation. This time it was the gates of Hogwarts. He had to follow at a run as Archaeon marched on Hogwarts with purpose. Within minutes, Archaeon's power to make things happen became apparent. Somehow he had managed to notify all the relevant people without Albus even seeing him do anything. Minister for Magic Lionel Wilberforce, Professor Prewett, Dr Strovsky, Admiral Scholtz and Jannes Grundelwald were all present in the Great Hall awaiting Archaeon and Albus.

'This is rather unusual, Archaeon,' Minister Wilberforce said, making a stride towards Archaeon, but Albus' father brushed him aside and proceeded to conjure a ring of chairs for everyone to sit on. He conjured a podium on which he placed Albus, facing all the seated people.

'Lionel, Athene, Vladimir,' Archaeon began, 'you will not yet know about what has happened at the Haversfield Hawks versus Caerphilly Catapults Quidditch match. I do not need to inform Scholtz and Grundelwald, for they already know.'

'My word, what happened, Archaeon?' Professor Prewett said, her bad eye staring through her monocle.

'Some dark wizards attacked the flimsy stand in which the audience were seated,' Archaeon said, 'at which time it collapsed.'

'Oh, no, no, no, Archaeon,' Lionel Wilberforce said, laughing mildly. 'I have already received notification of this little incident, and the Ministry officials who investigated it informed me that it was merely a product of the atrocious weather and the weight of the snow on that rickety old stand that caused the collapse. We are all dismayed that such a frail structure could be allowed to …'

'Minister, if you please,' Archaeon said tersely, 'I knew that the word "accident" would be used to describe it, but it is only a convenient cover for what truly occurred. Now, if you will be so kind as to be quiet and listen to my son, who has a story to tell.'

Archaeon turned to Albus; his blue eyes alight with reassurance. Albus nodded, knowing what he must do. Conscious of the gazes of Grundelwald and Admiral Scholtz burning into his skin, he proceeded to recount the story that he had told Archaeon just moments before in the Dumbledore living room.

'Utterly preposterous!' decried Admiral Scholtz when Albus had finished. Albus was surprised in fact that he had taken so long to object, but he realized by the smirk on Admiral Scholtz' face that the German had wanted Albus to tell the whole story. Because it was something of a tall tale, Albus realized, and clearly this is what Admiral Scholtz wanted the Minister to think. Admiral Scholtz went on to say, 'this is clearly a load of tripe invented by an attention-seeking boy who is aware that his father listens to everything he says.'

'Archaeon?' said Lionel Wilberforce, his face screwed up in an unfathomable expression.

'My son is telling the truth,' Archaeon said firmly. 'A dose of Veritaserum would confirm it, I assure you. I beseech you, Minister, to have Phineas Nigellus arrested and taken to Azkaban …'

'I cannot do that,' Minister Wilberforce said. 'My hands are tied on this matter and I have told you this before.'

'Shall I advance directly to the Wizengamot?' Archaeon said loudly. 'They will hear the testimony of my son, and if they enforce the use of Veritaserum on Nigellus, Scholtz and Grundelwald here …'

'Over my dead body!' yelled Admiral Scholtz. He was pointing a fat finger at the Minister. 'If your government attempts to investigate a high ranking German Headmaster on the word of a twelve year old boy, you risk open war with Germany.'

'You will not be a Headmaster once your Champion is disqualified from the Triwizard Tournament and your school is disgraced,' Archaeon said.

'You cannot disqualify Jannes Grundelwald!' Admiral Scholtz screamed. Archaeon and the Admiral were now trading screams that resounded down the length of the Great Hall. Admiral Scholtz cried, 'I am on the judging panel and I vote to keep Jannes in the Tournament. What say you, Minister?'

Lionel Wilberforce gave Archaeon what amounted to a sheepish look and said, 'I must concede, it is a stretch of the imagination to take the word of a twelve year old, Archaeon. I vote to keep Grundelwald.'

'I vote to disqualify him,' Professor Prewett said swiftly. All eyes turned thus to Dr Vladimir Strovsky, who looked quite dismayed by the entire proceeding.

'On a matter of national interest,' Dr Strovsky said softly, 'I cannot oppose the viewpoint taken by the British Minister or Admiral Scholtz. 'Therefore I vote to keep Grundelwald in the Tournament, but I recommend that an appropriate investigation, perhaps the Wizengamot as was suggested, be held into this affair.'

Jannes Grundelwald was staring at Albus with a look of triumph on his face. The judging panel had voted three to two to keep him in the competition. Albus' insides felt like giving way and falling to the floor. He could not believe the politics that he had just encountered. It was to be the beginning of a long and forgetful history between Albus and politics, one that would stop him from ever pursuing a career in the Ministry.

'Thank you for making a sensible and secure decision,' Admiral Scholtz said, flashing looks of contempt in turn at Professor Prewett, Archaeon and Albus. 'Now, if it pleases you, I will be taking my Champion back to our lodgings. This ridiculous meeting has gone on long enough.'

Admiral Scholtz and Jannes Grundelwald marched towards the exit, followed ten strides later by Dr Strovsky, who clearly wanted to avoid involvement in any of this. Minister Wilberforce came over to speak with Archaeon, taking him aside and casting a severe look at Albus. Albus strained his ears to hear what was said, but caught only fragments.

'…risible act of contempt …' the Minister was saying, '…disgraceful … these are our guests … no respect for … magical cooperation … your son needs help … Phineas had influence beyond yours, Archaeon … do not approach the Wizengamot … consequences for your family … that is all I have to say.'

The Minister flung his cloak over his shoulder and stormed off, muttering fiercely to himself. Archaeon came to stand facing Professor Prewett and Albus, his face heavy with the lines of defeat.

'They didn't believe me,' Albus said weakly. 'All I have succeeded in doing is embarrassing you, father.'

'That is not true,' Archaeon said. 'We may not have convinced the Minister to stop bowing to Phineas Nigellus' financial clout, nor has Jannes Grundelwald been rightfully ejected from the competition. But what you have achieved, Albus, is to reveal to me the very details of Phineas' and Scholtz' plans. I now know that they are working side by side in an endeavour to acquire the Everlasting Flame. So do not feel as though you have failed in any sense. You have been through a dreadful ordeal on my account, and it is I who should be apologizing.'

Albus nodded, but could not displace the feeling of unease that clung to his skin.

'This is appalling,' Professor Prewett said. 'I cannot believe the audacity of those Germans, nor can I believe the weakness of our Minister for Magic! I used to have respect for Wilberforce, but none remains after this debacle. How many times must Albus be subject to attempted murder by that man before something is done?'

'Alas, Athene,' Archaeon said heavily, 'when one only has the word of a twelve year old wizard and a phoenix that speaks through the eyes, one does not have a case.'

'But what about Veritaserum?' demanded Professor Prewett. 'You will take Albus to the Wizengamot, won't you?'

'No,' Archaeon said. Albus was surprised. 'The Minister has made it clear to me that he will come down heavily on my extended family if I take any further action. But do not fear, for we will actually profit from this debacle.'

'How?' asked Professor Prewett. 'How is it humanly possible to profit from this?'

'I now know our enemy's plans,' Archaeon said, 'so I can take action to counter them. Furthermore, you must alert all the people who are looking after Albus that the Grundelwald boys and Admiral Scholtz are the three people most likely to do him harm. What's more, I recommend we deliberately punish Jannes Grundelwald when we mark him for the Second Task, given the, er … nature … of the Third and final Task.'

Albus' head was spinning. Who were these people looking after him? And what was it about the nature of the Third Task that Archaeon wanted to put Grundelwald at a disadvantage from the outset?

'Oh, and Albus,' Archaeon said, clicking Albus back to reality, 'I advise you not to speak of your kidnapping to anyone. Act as though nothing happened and keep your head down at school. You are well protected at Hogwarts, and I will be doing everything in my power to protect the Everlasting Flame from our enemies. So you are not to worry, is that understood?'

'Yes, father,' Albus said. He was excused from the Great Hall to return to Gryffindor, because Archaeon wanted private discussion with Professor Prewett. Albus felt as though his legs were heavy lead weights on the stairs up to Gryffindor. He also felt the weight of a thousand portraits staring at him. It was in that moment that he knew which "people" were looking after him at Hogwarts: it was the portraits.

* * *

Author's Note – there is the follow-up to the cliffhanger that everyone was complaining about :-). I attempt to have one or two good cliffhangers in every story. Remember that if you read the whole story from start to finish, it isn't a cliffhanger because you can just go to the next chapter. I suppose it's different when I don't update for a few days … or a week! Anyway, thanks to all you wonderful reviewers, keep it up! And I am now on the home straight. There are about six or seven chapters left and I am hoping to rattle them off in the next two weeks! So the end of this book is nigh! 


	15. The Horse Man

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Sometimes the good must walk the evil path to win the ultimate battle over evil"

* * *

Chapter 15 – The Horse Man

After the wholly unsatisfactory meeting between Archaeon Dumbledore and the other judges of the Triwizard Tournament, Albus returned to the second year boys' dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, to be alone with his thoughts. It was the last day of the Christmas break, so Alabastor and William were only returning that night. Edward had gone to the library to catch up on his Potions essays and Mars was in St Mungo's with Victoria, Aberforth and Albus' mother. So Albus was able to sit in the large window sill behind his bed and confront his thoughts; only the sound of Fawkes crooning behind him.

At first Albus was angry with the Minister for Magic, Lionel Wilberforce. How could a man of such intelligence and high standing be prepared to discard Albus' testimony without even using Veritaserum to confirm its truth? Albus was too young to understand the consequences for Britain should they insult Germany in such a manner, so his lack of political nous only made him the angrier. Likewise he could not forgive Dr Vladimir Strovsky of the Moskva Academy for being unwilling to choose a side, namely, Albus'. At least Professor Prewett had shown where her loyalties lay.

Once Albus' anger cooled a little, or perhaps it was just his toes going blue from the sleet that was raining down upon the window on which his feet were resting, he slipped off the ledge and clambered into bed. There, he began to ponder the problem posed by the Grundelwald brothers, Admiral Scholtz and Phineas Nigellus. He was uneasy at the thought that someone, namely Phineas, wanted him dead, and terrified at the thought that the Grundelwald brothers now knew what Albus held dear to him. Fawkes and the Everlasting Oak were in danger, but more importantly, Victoria could be a target! Albus felt a searing heat rise within his chest on her behalf, a burning anger that he could almost feel radiating from his skin. He could almost imagine himself radiating with power in the same way Archaeon Dumbledore was capable of.

'It is decided,' Albus said loudly to the empty dormitory, 'I have no choice but to protect Victoria for the remainder of the Triwizard Tournament, and I may have to place some befuddling charms of some sort around the Everlasting Oak so that nobody can find it.'

Somehow, Albus felt that declaring his resolutions out loud made them more real.

But Albus had added incentive to take action now. Jannes Grundelwald had committed a mortal offence against him, and Albus took it as given that the entire Black Forest School of Magical Arts was involved. After all, it's Headmaster and a few of its other students had been present in the dark castle where Albus had been kidnapped to. So Albus made another verbal resolution out loud.

'I will do everything in my power to see that Thomas Jones wins the Triwizard Tournament,' Albus said loudly, 'and the Black Forest School of Magical Arts will have to answer to The Guardians of Gryffindor, of Justice and Victory, Defenders of Truth and Pirates of Points Undeserved!'

'What's that about the Black Forest School of Magical Arts answering to the Pirates?' asked William Potter, striding into the dormitory with a swing of the suitcase in his one hand and the other hand raking his boyish black hair.

'Yes, I could have sworn I heard Dumbledore talking to himself up here,' Alabastor said, following William in with his bags in tow.

'Why are you bringing your bags up by yourselves?' Albus asked. 'Where are the house elves?'

'Oh, they have all taken ill,' William grumbled.

'Most probably with laziness disease,' Alabastor added uncharitable. He dumped his bags behind his bed and bounced onto his mattress, eyeing Albus with curiosity. 'So Albus, who is doing what to whom, may I ask?'

Albus sighed. Already William had heard too much. Albus was quickly reminded of Archaeon's request that he not tell anyone about his kidnapping, but Albus figured that he could trust the Pirates. More importantly, the very reason that he had been considering starting a new club the other day whilst talking to Swarbrick Snape over Christmas breakfast had been because the Pirates had not had anything to do. This was the perfect opportunity to get the Pirates acting as a united group again.

'I will tell you shortly,' Albus said, breaking into a smile. 'I have chanced upon an opportunity for the Pirates to get up to mischief again, without invoking the ire of Professor Prewett.'

'Without invoking her ire?' exclaimed William, dropping the invisibility cloak that he had been unpacking from his suitcase in excitement. 'This must be good. I want to hear.'

'I will tell you,' Albus said calmly, 'but first we must await Edward from the library, and as a matter of fact I think we should bring the girls up here. This story cannot be told in the Gryffindor common room; I do not want anyone else to hear.'

'What about Mars?' asked Alabastor, frowning.

'Ah, Mars and Victoria are in St Mungo's, and I don't know when they will be back,' Albus said, prompting the other two boys to gasp. 'And that is part of the story, if you'll have patience.'

'I wish I could do Legilimency,' Alabastor grumbled, 'as I do not wish to wait.'

It was William who had the sense to run down to the library to fetch Edward, while Albus ventured down to the Gryffindor common room to summon the girls. Girls were permitted in the boys dormitories, but the reverse was not true, and had been since boys would be boys. When it became clear that neither Victoria nor Mars would be back from St Mungo's that evening, Albus called for silence from his fellow second years and proceeded to tell them about his kidnapping. He would tell Mars and Victoria later. When he was finished with the tale, he went on to explain his plans.

'So,' Albus said with finality, 'my plan is for the Pirates to take whatever action is necessary to make the Black Forest School of Magical Arts' stay here miserable. So think of them as being the new Slytherin; and think of Jannes Grundelwald as being a dozen times worse than Noxious Black. But most importantly, you are not to mention anything of my kidnapping to anyone, is that understood.'

'Your father did not want you to tell anyone about it, did he,' Alabastor said, a shrewd look upon his face. His brown eyes were looking at Albus with a discerning gaze. He said, 'well the way I see it, Albus has disobeyed his father out of loyalty to us, his friends. So we should take it upon ourselves to do as he asked and keep it a secret.'

'You say it as though we Pirates are too stupid to keep something like that a secret,' Emily snapped, champing at the bit to have another argument with Alabastor. But Albus was secretly pleased with Alabastor for finally showing some faith in him.

'Thank you Alabastor,' Albus said loudly, giving Emily a look that told her to keep quiet. 'Now our priority is to conceive of some brilliant means of getting at the Black Forest School of Magical Arts, without them being able to suspect us. That will not be easy because the Grundelwald brothers already know and dislike me, but they do not know any of you. So I may have to be some kind of decoy, or have legitimate alibis whenever you chaps perform a prank.'

'Do you mean to say that you will not be taking part in the pranks?' Maggie asked, pulling at a tuft of her red hair.

'I will whenever possible,' Albus said, 'and I will certainly be helping to plan them. However, my chief priority is to help Thomas Jones win the Triwizard Tournament, and that will take a considerable amount of my time. As a matter of fact, I really ought to speak with him tonight, before the term recommences.'

'Very well,' Alabastor said, puffing out his chest and taking charge as he liked to do, 'you go on, Albus, and we will start bandying about possible pranks.'

'Yes, that we shall,' William said, also puffing out his chest. 'I already have two ideas. The first is …'

'I beg your pardon, Potter,' Alabastor snapped, 'I was speaking when you rudely interrupted.'

Albus could sense a quarrel brewing, and although it mildly amused him to see it developing even before he had left the room, he was in no mood to have arguments upset his plans. He allowed some of his anger from earlier on to seep back into his countenance such that his face went red and he could feel power radiating from his skin again.

'Be silent the both of you!' yelled Albus, sending William and Alabastor tumbling back into their beds in surprise. 'This is no matter for quibbling and trifling. Emily, take charge of this meeting and ensure that there are no quarrels. I will be back later to add my two pence worth.'

Albus whipped out of the room, his striped green and crimson Caerphilly Catapults robes sailing along behind him. He had yet to change out of them, throughout the entire tumultuous day. It felt like a lifetime since Archaeon had taught him the _Amon-hen_ spell. It was one of the benefits of being a boy – time passed by at a leisurely pace so that a day could last a year if enough happened in a short space of time.

Albus found Thomas Jones in the Gryffindor common room and asked if he could speak alone with him. Since Jones had let his fellow sixth years know that an item Albus owned had helped him to win the First Task, none of the sixth years even raised an eyebrow. Albus was fast developing a reputation for being competent beyond his years at Hogwarts, and so Thomas had no qualms in agreeing to go with Albus to his secret turret in the highest tower where they could examine the Orb together.

'So, you've come to help me for the Second Task,' Thomas asked, settling down against the cold stone wall in the turret's enclave and conjuring a blue flame to keep them both warm.

'That I have,' Albus said, 'and it is of great importance to me. Grundelwald has performed a slight on me and I have added motivation to see you victorious.'

'May I ask what the slight was?' Thomas said; a light of curiosity in his blue eyes.

'Alas, you may not,' Albus said, 'but rest assured that I wish for you to win as strongly as you do.'

'It must have been a significant slight then,' Thomas said. 'Very well, before we both freeze to death up here, why not undertake to ask your Orb some questions then?'

Albus realized that he had not yet revealed the Orb with the _Amon-nu_ spell.

'_Amon-nu,_' Albus chanted. Immediately the Orb, the Eye of Horus amulet and the ankh in his pockets were revealed. He pulled out the Orb and handed it to Thomas. He said, 'it is very important that you do not speak of how I conceal the Orb to anyone. This is a powerful object and some bad people want it.'

'You can trust me,' Thomas said confidently. He turned his eyes on the Orb and asked, 'what, o Orb, is the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament?'

The Orb went murky and stormy like the night outdoors, before golden letters appeared.

'_A race aloft creatures magical and deadly'_

'_A duel to the death with Lords darkened'_

'Which is it?' Albus cried, a lump in his throat. He did not want to have to help Thomas deal with Dark Lords – he had already faced the reborn Imhotep last year and had the dark wizard Phineas Nigellus as a mortal enemy; he did not want more to do with them. Not to mention that the Grundelwald brothers were future Dark Lords in the making.

'To be fair, this is a difficult one to deal with,' Thomas admitted, 'and I do hope our future questions shed more light on the right answer. But on first impressions, I daresay the race sounds more likely.'

'Why do you think that?' Albus asked.

'For one thing, Albus, I doubt any Dark Lord would volunteer their service for a competition such as this,' Thomas said whimsically.

'That may be true,' Albus said, 'but what if the task involves locating and killing a Dark Lord?'

'Possible,' Thomas said, his face turning a little pale at the prospect, 'but I am going to hope for the former, to be honest.'

'Ask the Orb another question,' Albus said. 'Perhaps that will reveal more.'

Thomas looked down at the mysterious ball and nodded several times, as though confirming something inside his own thoughts rather than simply agreeing with Albus.

'Orb, what must I do in order to guarantee that I win the Second Task?' asked Thomas.

'_Befriend that which bears you hence,' _replied the Orb. This time there was not a second sentence.

'I am going to take that as a truth,' Thomas said. 'If the Task is indeed to race on the backs of magical creatures, then it makes sense to befriend them first.'

'In that case,' Albus said, 'I am more than happy to spend my free time in the library finding out ways to please magical creatures.'

'You cannot be serious,' Thomas said; a puzzled expression on his face. 'You have your own business to attend to, Dumbledore! What with all the homework teachers load on us, I cannot expect you to spend time trying to help me!'

'Thomas, I assure you that I have the time,' Albus said, his jaw struck in a determined extension of his face.

'Well in that case,' Thomas said, 'why not bypass the library and speak to Professor Equus, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher? He will have all the answers … if you can find him, that is.'

'Professor who?' asked Albus. He had never heard of Professor Equus, and it came as a surprise to him that Hogwarts even had a Care of Magical Creatures teacher. The first and second years never took the subject, and moreover, Albus had never seen the said teacher at the staff table.

'I'm not surprised in the least that you do not know of Professor Ebenezer Equus,' Thomas said. 'He only ever appears to those who take Care of Magical Creatures as a subject, and as the rumour goes, he might even be a horse-like creature able to transfigure at will into a human.'

'No such creature exists,' Albus gasped, so confident that the existence of such a creature would not have passed his knowledge by.

'As I said, it is a rumour,' Thomas said. 'But do what you can to find him. The Care of Magical Creatures class takes their lessons on the edge of the Forbidden Forest in a paddock hidden from Hogwarts' view. Now, I must ask further questions of the Orb if I am to win this Task.'

Albus and Thomas pondered late into the night over each and every response from the Orb. As was to be expected from an object providing the exact truth and the exact untruth, and sometimes only one or the other; it was difficult to conclude the truth with every question. However, Albus got the impression that the Orb was telling the truth more often than it told lies, and he began to wonder whether the Orb of Duality had a conscience of its own. He could have sworn that the Orb was actually trying to help Thomas to win the Second Task.

Ultimately Thomas was able to declare at the end of the evening that he was satisfied he had extracted all that he could from the Orb, and that he was relatively confident that he could win the Task.

'The way I see it,' Thomas said, 'I will have to race on a unicorn across the highlands, a thestral over sea to reach the other side, an ocean serpent under sea, a minotaur through a maze and a dragon back to Hogwarts with the fragile egg that I find at the centre of the maze. With you going off to find Professor Equus and researching what I need to do to befriend these creatures, I can get my sixth year colleagues to research magical maze navigation and I can practice spells to protect myself against any harm these creatures might try to inflict on me. I might even ask old Professor Rolleston if he knows any good charms to make magical creatures move faster.'

'Do you think Professor Rolleston would help a student with the Triwizard Tournament?' asked Albus, astonished that Thomas could consider approaching a teacher.

'Not all teachers have the same approach as Professor Prewett,' Thomas said, smiling. 'You should know by now, Professor Rolleston is a good sort. I look up to him, I do.'

Albus nodded silently. He himself had come to look up to the stocky man with the half-moon glasses and eagle-owl eyebrows, since Professor Rolleston had started pushing Albus past the normal curriculum in Charms classes in the same way Professor Prewett had. Albus had long ago forgiven Professor Rolleston the slight of embarrassing him in class and getting him to realize that he was not infallible just because he could perform charms from a textbook a few years above his level.

'It is high time we went to bed,' Thomas said, consulting his personal hourglass. 'It is already past witching hour, and we have classes tomorrow.'

'Yes,' Albus said, yawning widely. 'If I am to locate the mysterious Professor Equus tomorrow, I must have my beauty's sleep.'

'Unto bed we go,' Thomas chirped, handing the Orb of Duality back to Albus. Albus concealed it and the other two objects with the _Amon-hen_ spell. As they walked back to Hogwarts Tower, Thomas asked, 'how did you learn to conceal things like that? It seems even beyond what we do in sixth year Charms.'

'My father taught me,' Albus said.

'Ah, naturally,' Thomas said. 'Were I ever to have an hour to learn from Archaeon Dumbledore, I would become twice the wizard I am.'

The idea burst into Albus' head like a beam of light.

'I have it!' Albus exclaimed. 'I will plead with my father to give you lessons in wizardry before the Second and the Third Tasks!'

'He is one of the judges, Albus,' Thomas said, but there was hope yet in his eyes.

'True,' Albus conceded, 'but I confess that my father himself has reasons to want Grundelwald to fail in his bid to win the Tournament. I will ask him nonetheless.'

'I am not going to stop you from doing so,' Thomas said. They had reached the portrait hole. Thomas grasped Albus' hand and shook it hard, saying, 'I am eternally grateful to you, Albus. Without this help I would be entering each Task blind. Now, at least, I have a path mapped out for me. Using the Orb doesn't guarantee that I win each Task, but it certainly aids me.'

'The pleasure is mine,' Albus said. 'I want you to win the Tournament. Not just for you, or Hogwarts, but for my father and for me.'

Albus and Thomas parted ways at the bottom of the stairwell up to the second year boys' dormitory. Albus slipped into bed as quietly as he could, hoping not to disturb the others; but William was snoring loudly enough to silence an elephant stampede. Albus fell asleep almost immediately. It had been an exceptionally long and draining day.

* * *

Come the following afternoon, Albus left the Pirates to scheme in the Gryffindor common room and headed for the Care of Magical Creatures paddock, where the fourth years were finishing up after the final lesson of the day. Gareth Jones from Ravenclaw gave Albus a grin and a wave, ruffling his hair as he walked past with a group of his friends. Apparently Thomas had let his brother know how useful Albus was being in his attempt to win the Triwizard Tournament. Albus missed seeing Aberforth, for the fourth year Gryffindors shared the class with Ravenclaw. Aberforth had not yet returned from St Mungo's.

A short figure in a simple brown cassock stood at the far end of the paddock. After what Thomas had said last night, Albus had half expected that he would spend weeks trying to locate the mysterious Professor Equus. But, there he stood, using a wand to lock flying lemmings in a brown wooden crate. Albus approached cautiously, his small legs sinking thigh deep in the heavy overnight snow. As he got closer to Professor Equus he realized that the man was ancient and withered like a thousand year old tree, his face swathed in lines and a few pathetic white strands of hair growing out of a bald scalp. When Professor Equus turned his eyes on Albus they were cold and silvery pale.

'You are the second boy of Dumbledore, the one in whose eyes glows the light of flame everlasting,' said Professor Equus in a raspy voice. 'You have come to elicit my help in your pledge to aid the oldest boy of Jones in his Task.'

'Er … yes,' Albus said awkwardly, wondering how Professor Equus could know so much about him when Albus had only heard of him for the first time last night.

'I have time in infinite amounts,' said Professor Equus. 'When the first horse was tamed by man, there was I. When equine sports and wars frequented the lives of men, there was I. When the ancients spoke words of wisdom on Grecian mounts, there was I. When Lysander conquered the East on Bucephalus' back, there was I.'

Albus was befuddled. Not being a muggle, he had never heard of Alexander the Great and his horse Bucephalus. However, Albus was astute enough to realize that Professor Equus was claiming to be exceptionally old.

'May I ask, sir,' Albus said politely, for he had been taught to be polite to one's elders, and Professor Equus was potentially the eldest of all elders, 'how it is that you have lived for such a long time, for I would not have thought it possible.'

'The answer, second son of Dumbledore,' said Professor Equus in his mysterious way; 'is that I am immortal in my equine form. As a horse, I cannot be parted from this life. As a man I am mortal. Hence, I exist only as a human for short periods. In my lifetime I have lived many thousands of years as a horse, but only a few months more than a hundred years as a man.'

'I have never heard of such a being as you,' Albus said, looking upon the ancient horse man with wide eyes. 'What are you called?'

'There is no name attached to me,' Professor Equus said. 'I have lived and galloped under many banners, for many riders, for many nations. I was Bucephalus, and before him I was the mount on which Heracles ascended Mount Olympus. In my time at Hogwarts I have been called Professor Equus, but there is no title for my type. I am unique, and if I should ever outlive my human life, I will remain a horse until the light of this world is extinguished.'

'In that case,' Albus said earnestly, 'I do not wish to use up your precious time as a man, but I do wish to help my friend Thomas. I need to know how he can win the trust of the magical creatures he will have to ride in this race, and he suggested I turn to you.'

'The first son of Jones is wiser than many his age,' Professor Equus rasped. 'And the second son of Dumbledore is wiser still.' Albus flushed red in the cheeks. Professor Equus went on to say, 'the answer is simple. For the first son of Jones to accomplish his aim, he need only say to each creature, "Behold, I am sent by he who was called Bucephalus, who rode with the ancients, who saw history unfold and galloped through the Ages unto this day. He who was and is the horse man of Ages hath sent me to you, o mighty beast, that I might ride you a part way through history. For the one who hath sent me art great, but you are greater yet and I bow to you".'

Albus had to frown while he concentrated on remembering the long and arduous statement that Professor Equus had suggested Thomas use.

'Thank you, o Professor Equus,' Albus said, finding his head bowing at the ancient man without hesitation. He felt humbled to be in the presence of this great creature and realized that he had subconsciously made the decision to take Care of Magical Creatures next year, if only to learn from this vastly intelligent being.

'O second son of Dumbledore, I am myself honoured,' Professor Equus said to Albus' complete surprise. 'In the many Ages of my life I have oft known which human would rise to greatness. In you I see the light of greatness shining brightly at a very young age. You are destined to do much. Thus I shall permit you the sight of something few have ever seen.'

Albus then bore witness to an amazing transformation. Professor Equus threw off his brown cassock and instantly he went a blinding white colour. Within seconds the ancient old man was replaced by a magnificent stallion, a young and muscular horse in the prime of its galloping life. It had a brilliant ebony coat that glistened in the pale sunlight trying to break through the grey clouds overhead. It reared up against the snowy white backdrop and whinnied in a fashion that had the hairs on the back of Albus' head tingling. Then, without further ado, the horse man galloped into the Forbidden Forest and vanished within.

Albus had to fight to control his breathlessness as he returned to Hogwarts castle. He could scarce believe that such a creature existed, let alone at Hogwarts, and what's more, had let Albus see a transformation that it rarely permitted anyone to see. He broke out into an uncontrollable smile. He had found the answer for Thomas and with the minimum effort. There was now time to muster an ingenious Pirates prank against the Black Forest School of Magical Arts.

* * *

Author's Note – The plot thickens, or so I hope! Thank you to those loyal readers continuing to review for me and thanks to all my silent readers. I truly hope that you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Creating Albus Dumbledore's childhood world at Hogwarts is a heap of fun because I am free from the characters we see and hear all the time in fan fiction – those from canon and the Marauders etc. I am also largely free from the constraints of JK Rowling's creation itself. Okay, occasionally I make an error relating to canon, but seeing as JKR rarely ever writes about pre-1900s magical England, I am able to be flexible in my creation.

One thing you can know for sure, though, is that Albus won't be dying in my stories. After all, we all know when he dies, who killed him, where it was, how it was done, and hopefully book seven will explain why! RIP Albus Dumbledore! Until next time, readers!


	16. The Magical Race

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"It isn't how you start the race of life, or finish it. Its how you run the in-between."

* * *

Chapter 16 – The Magical Race

After Albus had delivered Professor Equus' instruction on how to please magical creatures to Thomas, he was free to devote his energies to the revived Pirates. He sent a letter by owl to his father asking if Archaeon would mind giving Thomas tutelage before the Second Task, but that was an aside. With the Second Task due to be held at the end of January 1854, Albus' main priority was to get the Pirates ready for a major prank on the Black Forest School of Magical Arts.

Developing pranks was not the only thing occupying the plates of the young second year Gryffindors, however. Their teachers seemed intent on delivering homework in endless volumes. Fortunately for them all, Albus' quick thinking brain conjured a solution during the first week back after Christmas, on the same day that Victoria and Mars returned looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed following their stays at St Mungo's.

'I have an idea,' Albus said grandly, while the Gryffindors lounged on their favourite couches in the common room, moping about the three foot long essay Professor Bones had demanded from them on the transfiguration of saplings into seats.

'It had better be an idea of greater quality than William's absurd idea to blow up fireworks underneath the School of Magical Arts' stand during the Second Task,' Alabastor grumbled.

'Let's hear it then,' William said, puffing out his chest and pulling on his hair, 'seeing as Alabastor has barely ventured a scrap of intelligent thought since last year!'

'If it is not Alabastor and William quibbling,' Albus said mildly, 'then it is Alabastor and Emily. Stop chewing on each other's necks like vampires and let me speak. Seeing as we have so much homework to complete from so many subjects, why not combine our homework with the creation of our pranks?'

'Are you stark raving mad?' Alabastor cried. 'How in Merlin's beard are we to combine homework with pranks? Do you expect us to perform a charm on a German student and then inform Professor Rolleston that we have done our homework?'

'You misunderstand me,' Albus said. 'By using spells from our homework in our prank, we will be, in effect, practicing our homework while we do the prank. In that way we will get the best of both worlds.'

'I think it is a stroke of genius,' Victoria said placidly, but her viewpoint was disregarded by the Gryffindors because of her feelings for Albus. It was given more credence when Emily and Maggie both voiced their agreement with Albus' plan.

'So, Professor Dumbledore,' Alabastor said sardonically, 'how about you commence our lesson, then?'

Albus smiled an enigmatic smile and his eyes sparkled blue.

'As you request,' Albus said.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Albus worked harder on his homework than he had ever done before, and the other second year Gryffindors could have said the same of themselves. They spent hours in the library, composing essays and researching spells, all the while trying to find ways to incorporate them into the master plan for the Second Task prank. William, who had a habit of coming up with long-winded titles for Pirates pranks, did the same for this one. He called it, "The Burn Down the Black Forest, Sink the School and Muddle the Magical Arts Pirates Prank to Prove a Perfectly Pertinent Point". Albus quite liked William's inventiveness, but coined the term "The Burn'em Prank" to save having to repeat the long name every time they referred to the prank.

Thanks in part to the Gryffindor second years' newfound diligence in their schoolwork, but largely due to Albus' creativity and mastery of almost everything he attempted, the Burn'em Prank quickly evolved into a complex and brilliantly hatched plan using components from each of their subjects. From Herbology they would use Gregariously Growing Viper Vines. Albus taught them the reverse spell for transfiguring saplings into seats using _A Better Way to Transfigure_ and the lessons learned from Transfiguration class. From Potions they planned to use the Shrieking Potion and copious volumes of Stinksap "borrowed" from Professor Rookwood's stores. They used Charms the most, for Professor Rolleston had taught them well. They would use a levitation spell, a spell to make plants grow faster, a spell to make pellets of Stinksap explode and a spell to make rude noises. They even managed to find a use for their midnight Astronomy lessons, by training their telescopes on the distant Quidditch pitch when Professor Sinistra was distracted and figuring out where the Black Forest School of Magical Arts was due to sit during the Second Task, for stands were being erected where the Quidditch pitch normally stood. At this point Albus could not help himself. He figured out where Slytherin were going to be sitting as well and decided to include them by accident in their Pirates prank.

But most importantly, the Pirates decided to make use of a significant spell derived from Professor Solstice's Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook _Principles of Defeating the Dark Arts – A Historical Perspective. _They utilized the lessons of Chapter Four – The Art of Masking Your Intentions. The plan was to use illusion charms to mask their spell-making so that they could sit in the Gryffindor stand during the Second Task and freely cast spells and jinxes at the Black Forest School of Magical Arts, without their opponents being able to figure out precisely where these charms were coming from. The same would apply to Slytherin, and to Professor Prewett, who, after all, could still expel them if she chose to in the aftermath of such a risky prank.

Albus had to admit that his nerves grew taut with worry in the week leading up to the Second Task, for a number of reasons. There was the obvious concern that their prank would backfire or Professor Prewett would find out that the Pirates were to blame again and he would be expelled. Then there was the fact that neither Admiral Scholtz nor the Grundelwald brothers had attempted to kill him or kidnap him again, which he somehow had been expecting. He knew that he was being watched out for by the portraits of Hogwarts, but Albus sometimes found himself peering around corners before turning them in the corridors. This whole sense of uncertainty was heightened by the fact that Albus now dreamed of a beam of blinding white light every night, a light that was surely the Everlasting Flame that the enemy so badly wanted to obtain. That as well as a letter that Archaeon sent him in reply to his earlier request about Thomas:

_To my dear son Albus,_

_I am afraid that I must decline your request to help Thomas Jones. The Triwizard Tournament is so named for a reason – it is a three-wizard competition. However, I am well aware that you have been doing the most with your limited powers and insight to assist him in his attempt to win. He needs no more help than you are already giving him._

_In terms of what we are facing, trust that I am working swiftly to protect us all from our enemies. You are to keep your profile low as I always request of you, and rest assured that your part in this drama will unfold at the right time. I have total faith in you, my son, to achieve all that you are capable of._

_Please inform Aberforth that I heard about his attempt to kidnap a Ravenclaw and hold her hostage for the price of the alluring portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw that hangs in the Ravenclaw common room. Be so kind as to let him know that he will be roasting his rear end when he returns for the summer holidays._

_Your loving father always,_

_Archaeon_

As usual, Archaeon's letter left Albus with feelings of intense guilt inside his small frame. He wondered if he was that different from Aberforth, going about performing mischievous pranks with callous disrespect for the rules; yet Aberforth always seemed to get the raw end of the stick. But at twelve years of age Albus was not yet insightful enough to see that the great Archaeon Dumbledore exhibited a fair amount of favouritism towards his youngest son.

* * *

The Second Task took place on a Saturday morning near the end of January. The sleet storms of November and December had come to an end, replaced by endless sheets of grey sky and chilly breezes across a snow-strewn Hogwarts. The Quidditch pitch took on a rather different appearance, however. The snow had been cleared for a mile-long stretch, revealing a dirt track painted with two white lines to create three wide racing lanes. Stands had been erected on either side of the track. Each Gryffindor House occupied their own stand, as did the two visiting schools. While everyone was heavily wrapped up to fight the cold, there was no shortage of spirit. Banners and flags flapped in the breeze and various chants went up from the three schools. One might have expected Hogwarts to have the loudest voice, seeing as it outnumbered the visiting schools four-to-one, but the lack of cohesion between the four Houses meant that the Black Forest School of Magical Arts and the Moskva Academy were actually able to raise the loudest cheers.

The judges were positioned behind a row of five tables at the far end of the racing track, whilst the three Champions were readying themselves at the start line. At this point there was no sign of any magical creatures, but Albus had not mentioned the contents of the Second Task to any of his friends, so he was the only person a little disconcerted by their absence. The other absence that Albus noticed was Grindelwald Grundelwald. The white-eyed ten year-old was nowhere to be seen in the Black Forest School of Magical Arts stand. Albus made a mental note of his absence, it seemed important.

'Are you ready?' Albus called to his fellow second years. They had positioned themselves in the very front row of the Gryffindor stand, allowing them an easy view of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts and Slytherin House, both of whom were seated in stands on the opposite side of the racing track. The other second years nodded, gripping their wands with conviction. Four weeks of devoted study and practice would only pay off if they all concentrated with every ounce of their mental energy. As soon as the race was underway and the attention of everyone in the audience was diverted, the Pirates would begin their prank. For now; they waited.

'Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,' Minister for Magic Lionel Wilberforce announced, magnifying his voice by way of wand, 'welcome to the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament!'

The Minister's voice was met with loud roars from everyone in the stands but Albus. In the light of the Minister's behaviour after Albus had been kidnapped and nearly murdered, he was not willing to applaud anything the man said. He also noticed that Minister Wilberforce had taken the announcer's mantle from Professor Prewett, probably because she had dared agree with Albus' father.

'At this point in the Tournament, the standings are as follows,' Minister Wilberforce continued, oblivious to the silent mutterings of one twelve year-old in the audience, 'in third place, with thirty five points, is Anastacia Volkova from the Moskva Academy!'

The Moskva Academy students in their black robes and witch hats let roar their approval for their heroine. Anastacia gave them a tentative wave from her place on the start line but looked clearly unsettled ahead of the Task. Albus was shrewd enough to presume that both Volkova and Grundelwald were well aware of what awaited them. If he could help Thomas figure out what was going on, then no doubt Dr Strovsky and Admiral Scholtz could do the same for their Champions.

'In a close second, with thirty-nine points,' Minister Wilberforce went on, 'is Jannes Grundelwald of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts. Well done, Jannes, you are performing well.'

The Minister's last words were lost under the cheers from the School of Magical Arts students, but Albus heard them clearly and felt his hand clench around his wand. The Minister was either blind to the German's faults or Admiral Scholtz had him under an _Imperius _curse. It would not have surprised Albus if the latter were true!

'And the current leader, on forty points, is Hogwarts own Thomas Jones,' said Minister Wilberforce, and the Gryffindors cheered accordingly. 'The Second Task will be commencing shortly, and the positions of the three Champions have been used to decide how difficult or easy the start of the Task will be for each of them. On account of being in third place, Miss Volkova will receive the most difficult start, whilst Master Jones will receive the easiest. Once the race is underway, however, all advantages will be lost and it will be a test of skill, courage and magical ability between three highly competent young wizards and witch. On the count of ten, the Magical Race will begin!'

Minister Wilberforce started to count down from ten to one, and the entire audience joined in. On the count of one; a cannon sounded and the audience rose as one to see what was happening on the race track.

Three unicorns had materialized out of thin air in front of the three Champions. Albus quickly glanced in the other direction at his father and saw that Archaeon had his wand out. Without a doubt, Archaeon had used the _Amon-hen_ to conceal the three unicorns. They had been standing on the race track all along.

As Minister Wilberforce had promised, the unicorns had been allocated by difficulty. Anastacia Volkova was struggling to tame her mount, which bucked and kicked fiercely. She got a hoof to the shoulder and fell backwards, prompting the audience to utter a collective gasp. Meanwhile Jannes Grundelwald and Thomas Jones were using entirely different methods of taming their unicorns. Thomas was, as Professor Equus had suggested, standing close to his unicorn and speaking softly in its ear. Albus could have sworn he saw the unicorn nod its head, even from his position all the way back in the stands. By contrast, Jannes Grundelwald was casting all manner of spells at his unicorn. Jets of red, blue and purple flashed from the end of his wand and hit the stunned unicorn. Eventually the unicorn's knees buckled and Grundelwald was able to mount it. By now several of the second year girls were howling tears at the treatment of the splendid white-coated animal, but Grundelwald had taken off at a canter. He was the only Champion galloping down the race track.

For a fleeting moment Albus wondered if he had failed Thomas, but just as his fears surfaced, the unicorn bowed before Thomas and serenely permitted him to mount. Thomas cast a sparkling golden spell on his unicorn and within seconds it was chasing down Grundelwald's mount. Jones and Grundelwald galloped past the judges' tables and their unicorns started to navigate the heavy snow on their way to the Forbidden Forest and the highlands that they had to cross. The pair had almost vanished by the time poor Anastacia Volkova got back to her feet, managed to subdue her rampant unicorn with a few spells, markedly more gentle than Grundelwald's had been; and galloped down the track in pursuit. Albus felt that the time was right.

'Pirates, now!' cried Albus. Almost as one, the ten Gryffindor second years proceeded to perform the routine that they had been practicing for weeks. They cast illusion charms on themselves to mask their wand work from any onlookers. When Albus was satisfied that, upon looking at his friends he saw a group of kids sitting with arms folded watching the race, rather than nine wand-wielding Pirates, he instructed them to continue. They levitated the seeds of Gregariously Growing Viper Vines and showered the unknowing Germans and Slytherins with them. After enchanting the seeds to grow faster than they already did, they proceeded to explode punnets of Stinksap over the heads of their opponents and cast spells that created a host of offending noises. Within seconds the results were evident. The German students and the Slytherins started blocking their noses with their hands and accusing one another of making foul smells. Several stood up and started physically quarrelling with one another, which worked wonders for the Pirates' plans, because they failed to notice the rapidly growing vines that were busy entwining themselves around their legs. Soon the students in silver robes and red undergarments were tripping over the vines and the entire stand creaked with the sound of people falling on people. The same was happening with the Slytherins!

By now the attention of the rest of the school and the Moskva Academy was firmly fixed upon the melee occurring amidst the Slytherins and the School of Magical Arts. The Pirates levitated their pottles of shrieking potion and unleashed them with exploding spells over the heads of their enemies. Soon the bumbling students were not only falling over vines and one another and clutching their noses against the smell of Stinksap; they were also shrieking uncontrollably like banshees and ghouls.

'What in Merlin's name is going on?' yelled Professor Prewett, not needing to magnify her voice to be heard. She advanced on the Slytherin stand, accompanied by Admiral Strovsky, who looked ready to explode with anger. His hair was bristling and he brandished his muggle sword like a wand. It was time for the Pirates' final act, a swansong designed to pay Admiral Scholtz and his students back for what they did at the Caerphilly Catapults – Haversfield Hawks match. It was time for the Pirates to show Professor Bones how well he had taught them at Transfiguration.

The ten Gryffindor second years stood as one, pointed their wands at the Black Forest School of Magical Arts' stand, and performed the spell to transfigure seats to saplings.

The stand collapsed in a rush of splintering wood and bodies falling on bodies as the wooden seats were turned into flimsy saplings without any semblance of mechanical structure. Once the dust had cleared, several dozen bodies lay interlinked with hundreds of saplings. None of the German students had been killed; the stand was not high enough for a fall to inflict any serious damage, but Albus was satisfied that there were enough bruises and cuts to keep Madam Rose in the Hospital Wing busy tonight. But best of all was the look on Admiral Scholtz's face. He looked fit to collapse into a fit of rage. And even though he searched the other stands for a sign of the source, all he could see when he looked in Albus' direction were ten students sitting calmly, watching the carnage with grins on their faces.

The laughter continued long after the students from the Black Forest School of Magical Arts limped back to Hogwarts to receive treatment for cuts and bruises while the Slytherins tried to untangle themselves from the unholy mess of vines that had taken root in their stand. The Gryffindors enjoyed the show the most, and Aberforth was quick to come down to the front and congratulate Albus on his brilliance.

'I would take a hundred floggings from father if it meant accomplishing something like that,' Aberforth opined, 'and in front of him to boot! You are a little genius.'

'We are little geniuses,' Alabastor corrected.

'Very true,' Aberforth conceded. 'Firewhiskies for the Pirates are on me tonight!'

Albus grinned, but this faded from his face when Professor Prewett came walking by, a peculiar clench of her jaw in place. Her bad eye narrowed on Albus through her foreboding monocle, and Albus gulped audibly. Alabastor grabbed Albus' shoulder instinctively, clenching tightly as though looking for support.

Professor Prewett stopped immediately in front of the Pirates. She took a moment for her eyes to meet each and every one of theirs, finally resting on Albus'.

'An utterly disgraceful display,' she muttered darkly, 'bringing shame upon the good name of Hogwarts in the eyes of our German guests, and bringing the Minister for Magic to remark that this school ought to be run by someone with higher standards than I. The very threat of losing my job leaves me little choice.'

Albus stopped breathing. He was dreading what was to come.

'I hereby award Gryffindor two hundred points for delivering a stark reminder to Admiral Wolfgang Scholtz that while his school might produce Dark wizards aplenty, my school produces students of sheer cunning and brilliance.'

Professor Prewett dropped her voice to a whisper and added with a wink, 'and for putting Slytherin in their place.'

The grey-haired Headmistress strode off toward the judges' table, leaving a dumbfounded Albus to receive hugs from Victoria and the other second year girls, amid much whooping and backslapping from the boys. It was a moment the Pirates could cherish. They were back at Hogwarts with a vengeance, and they were back to their points winning ways. None of these ten were getting expelled today!

When the excitement settled down, all eyes turned to the sky to await the outcome of the race. As it happened, Minister Wilberforce had been trying to give a running commentary, for the judges appeared to have some method of telling what was going on. Albus hunted down the three first years that hero-worshipped him and discovered that they had been listening to the commentary with interest. He asked Allan Glastonbury to fill him in on the details.

Albus was able to ascertain that Thomas and Jannes had been relatively evenly matched over the highlands mounted on unicorns, but that Jannes seemingly had greater experience with thestrals and had crossed the North Sea more swiftly. By the time all three Champions were riding ocean serpents, however, both Anastacia and Thomas had caught up to the German. All three had negotiated separate routes through the maze on Minotaur-back to obtain the fragile egg within, and while Jannes had emerged first ahead of Anastacia, it had been Thomas who was first to tame his dragon and launch into flight back to Hogwarts. For as Minister Wilberforce was now booming:

'We should be seeing the first Champion within moments. As I understand it is Jones leading by a full minute from Volkova, with Grundelwald in hot pursuit. Ah … there is the first Champion!'

All eyes turned to the horizon, where a black speck was moving toward them. Albus' eyes strained to see the distant object but failed. He blinked several times in frustration, but Allan produced a pocket telescope and handed it to him. Albus thanked the first year and peered through. To his dismay he discovered that the rider was wearing silver robes over a red undergarment, and had a strong, square jaw and angry expression. It was Jannes Grundelwald.

'Aha!' cried Minister Wilberforce. 'Jannes Grundelwald must have had greater control over his dragon, for he is the first Champion to return! Yes, it is Grundelwald who lands first and seizes the lead from Thomas Jones! And here come the two other Champions now … it looks like a close call … and Jones just holds on from Volkova! What a thrilling conclusion to a dramatic race!'

Albus slumped into his front row seat between Alabastor and Victoria, distraught. Every inch of him had been straining for a Thomas Jones victory, but instead the enemy had won through. How had Jannes Grundelwald surpassed Thomas after he had been the first to successfully mount his dragon?

'The time has come for each of the judges to deliver their verdict!' Minister Wilberforce declared. The three Champions were standing in a row in front of the judges, all clasping the tiny egg that they had obtained from the centre of the maze that they'd had to negotiate on the back of a Minotaur. Minister Wilberforce was the first to announce his score. 'For placing third, I award Miss Volkova five points, with points deducted for her inability to handle a unicorn. For placing second I award Master Jones seven points. And to the winner, Jannes Grundelwald, I award ten.'

The points awarded by Admiral Scholtz were hardly a surprise. He gave Jannes ten, Thomas two and Anastacia one. Dr Strovsky was considerably less partisan. He had the grace to deduct points from Jannes for using harmful spells to subdue a unicorn, awarding him eight, Thomas seven and Anastacia six. Archaeon Dumbledore had left the judges table and was consulting with the dragons, if it were possible to converse with the massive, fire-breathing beasts. He returned to the judges table, muttered a word in Professor Prewett's ear and proceeded to magnify his voice.

'On account of Jannes Grundelwald achieving first place in the race I would have awarded him maximum points,' Archaeon said gravely, 'but a number of factors count against him. I deduct three points for the use of dark magic to subdue a unicorn, but of greatest concern is the manner in which he achieved the victory. For attacking his fellow competitors' dragons and thereby cheating his way to victory, I deduct the remainder of Jannes Grundelwald's points and award him zero. I award the rightful winner, Thomas Jones, ten points, and the rightful second place, Anastacia Volkova, eight points.'

Admiral Scholtz stamped his feet and pounded his fists on his table, but there was no erasing the power of Archaeon's words. All five stands resonated with boos at the cheat, and with no Black Forest students to back him up, Jannes Grundelwald cut a miserable figure standing before the judges. Professor Prewett stood up and awarded the same points that Archaeon had, leading Admiral Scholtz to storm off in a tantrum.

'Tallying up the points,' Professor Prewett said, ignoring Minister Wilberforce's protest that he be the one to make the announcement, 'Jannes Grundelwald and Anastacia Volkova have finished jointly second on the Second Task with twenty-eight points each. The winner of the Second Task, with thirty-six points, is Thomas Jones!'

Gryffindor raised a cheer louder than any Albus had heard that year. When the points from the first two Tasks were tallied, Thomas led with seventy-six points, Jannes was second with sixty-seven, and Anastacia trailed with sixty-three.

A jubilant Gryffindor House marched back to Hogwarts, chanting and waving their lionhearted banners at the grey sky. The Pirates were singing and dancing for joy, having seen the Gryffindor Champion emerge victorious and won the House two hundred points at the expense of Slytherin and the German school. Albus felt comfortable holding hands with Victoria for the first time in a while. There had been distance between them for reasons Albus could not explain, but this latest Pirates prank had brought them close again, and Albus now remembered why he liked her so intensely.

Aberforth was once again responsible for a raucous party in the Gryffindor common room, but before he could lumber the Pirates with Firewhiskies, Albus and Mars went up to their dormitory to put their wands away. They were chatting away merrily as they came through the door but what they found ended all conversation.

Albus' bed was in tatters. The curtains had been slashed into ribbons, and the bed-sheets were torn. Pillow feathers covered the entire dormitory. But worse was the state of Albus' trunk. Its contents were strewn the length and breadth of the room, shattered or torn or broken. _A Better Way to Transfigure _had been reduced to a thousand scraps of paper. _A Guide to Magical Secret Keeping _was in a similar state. The hourglass Mars had given Albus for his birthday had been shattered against the wall. Worse was still to greet Albus' eyes. His striped green and crimson Caerphilly Catapults uniform had been reduced to rags and cinders. The last insult was the shattered window behind his bed. When Albus ran over to look, he discovered that Fawkes' stand had been thrown through the window and now lay in splinters at the foot of Gryffindor Tower.

'They must have known that we did the pranks on them,' Mars said weakly.

Albus stood in the middle of the room and shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes and running soundlessly down his face.

'This had nothing to do with the prank,' Albus said. 'Please go call Professor Prewett or Professor Rolleston … my father … someone …'

Mars ran off, leaving Albus alone to cry in peace. He knew at once who had done this. He knew at once why they had done this. The person had come looking for the Orb or the Everlasting Flame, both items that they had no hope of finding in his dormitory, and in a rage that person had destroyed every one of Albus' belongings, leaving those of his four roommates intact.

As Albus stood sobbing, waiting for his teachers or his father to come and see what had done to him, he knew with a coldness in his heart why Grindelwald Grundelwald had been absent during the Second Task that morning.

* * *

Author's Note – I am truly charging through this tale as we approach the climaxes. I say climaxes because, like the first Albus Dumbledore book, this story has more than one twist to come. I hope you are all enjoying this! 


	17. The Three Guides

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"In the face of adversity greatness shines brightest"

* * *

Chapter 17 – The Three Guides

Professor Ryan Rolleston was the first teacher to arrive in the second year boys' dormitory after Mars had gone off to seek help. He locked the door behind him to prevent curious Gryffindor eyes from seeing what was going on. His first response to seeing Albus standing in the midst of tattered books and torn sheets was to raise his eagle-owl eyebrows to the ceiling and pull on his graying beard. He then adjusted his half-moon spectacles and peered down at Albus with a look of grave concern.

'There is no damage to your person, I hope,' Professor Rolleston said with his smooth voice.

'No sir,' Albus said miserably. 'But everything else …'

'I can see that,' Professor Rolleston said, stepping over the spine of _A Better Way to Transfigure_ and taking a better look around. 'This happened whilst you were all down at the Second Task, I presume?'

'Yes sir,' Albus said. He bit the inside of his cheek. 'Grindelwald Grundelwald did this; the white-eyed little brother of Jannes Grundelwald.'

'That is a bold assertion,' Professor Rolleston said. He crouched down in front of Albus and took hold of his shoulder, gazing deep into Albus' eyes with his own black eyes. 'That boy is barely ten years of age, and I hardly imagine anyone would believe that he is capable of such an act. He would have had to hoodwink the Fat Lady.'

'He could have overheard the password,' Albus insisted. 'He is a very good wizard! I have felt the power of his wand already! There was that occasion in the Forbidden Forest during the First Task where we both knocked each other unconscious…'

Albus was pleading with Professor Rolleston, urging him to believe what he knew to be true.

'I maintain that it is a bold assertion,' Professor Rolleston said. 'I am not deliberately trying to thwart your attempt to find recompense for what has been done to you. I am merely providing the attitude that you will face if you try to bring this claim to light.'

'You have to …' Albus began, but realized mid-sentence that he did not understand what had been said to him. He said, 'what … what do you mean, sir?'

'I mean to say that Admiral Scholtz or any other authority to whom you raise the suggestion that Grindelwald Grundelwald is to blame for this will rubbish it,' Professor Rolleston said gravely. 'I am afraid to conclude that we may never locate the perpetrator of this offence, and I am going to have to consider improving Gryffindor's security.'

Albus felt like hitting Professor Rolleston in the face. Not out of anger at his Housemaster, per se; rather, Albus was furious that, for the second time that year, the Germans were going to get away with something because nobody would believe the word of a twelve year-old boy. Perhaps sensing Albus' distress, Professor Rolleston's eyes softened and he ushered Albus towards his bed to take a seat.

'Your father should be here shortly,' Professor Rolleston said kindly, 'as he is busy completing his duties as Triwizard judge, as is Professor Prewett. Would you like me to send your friends up from the celebrations with some Butterbeer and chocolate to cheer you up?'

'No,' Albus said dully, rubbing his eyes where the tears were still leaking out.

Professor Rolleston stepped back, a strange look of amusement on his face. He seemed to be thinking about whether or not it would be appropriate to do something else for the woebegone boy in front of him. He seemed to reach the conclusion that it would.

'_Cacophanae comis!'_ chanted Professor Rolleston. A jolt of yellow flashed from his wand and hit Albus in the chest. Within moments Albus was clutching his sides, laughing at the top of his lungs.

'No, it isn't funny!' insisted Albus, 'I beg you to stop, sir! I do not wish to laugh at this time! Oh, please do not make me laugh!'

'_Tarantallegra!'_ cried Professor Rolleston. Suddenly Albus had the curious sensation of dancing uncontrollably, still streaming tears from a bizarre mix of being upset and wanting to laugh like a hyena.

Archaeon Dumbledore burst through the door to be met with a most curious sight. His son was dancing and laughing uncontrollably while his room lay in tatters, every possession of his in ruin.

'_Finitum,'_ said Professor Rolleston, bringing his spells to an abrupt end. He turned to address Archaeon and said, 'Archaeon, my friend, your boy found his room in this state. I apologise for the hilarity, I was in the process of cheering him up.'

'Naturally you were,' Archaeon said, nodding at the Charms teacher. He strode up to Albus, taking him in a hug. Albus buried his face in Archaeon's massive chestnut-grey beard.

'Grindelwald did this,' Albus sobbed into his father's chest. 'He was not at the Second Task, I noticed. He did this because he was looking for the Everlasting Flame. I cannot do this anymore, father! I am afraid for the lives of my friends now! I am afraid for me! I am a target because I have the Orb, and I do not even know where the Flame is! Please stop this from happening to me!'

Albus had let it all out in a rush. It was a spectrum of fears and concerns that he had not yet had the ability to admit to himself, but in the light of his possessions being ravished, his emotions spilled over and his true feelings became apparent. Albus was, for the first time in his life, genuinely afraid of someone; namely, Grindelwald. Yet in the arms of the great Archaeon Dumbledore he felt as though his feet were on solid rock, and even the specter of Grindelwald was somewhat diminished.

'Alas, my boy,' Archaeon said, pulling Albus away and crouching down to face him as Professor Rolleston had done, 'how I wish it were possible to extricate you from this dilemma. However, it is impossible. Phineas Nigellus already covets your death out of bitterness for last year, whilst the Grundelwald brothers have seen great power in your eyes. Even if I were to hand the Everlasting Flame to our enemies and call for a truce, you would remain a target.'

'What am I supposed to do then, father?' Albus wept.

'Demonstrate the courage expected from a Gryffindor,' said Professor Rolleston unexpectedly. Albus half expected Archaeon to tell Professor Rolleston to be silent, but he did not.

'I agree with Ryan,' Archaeon said simply. 'As I have said thrice before, you are well protected here at Hogwarts …'

'How then do you explain the state of my room?' cried Albus. 'He destroyed my Caerphilly Catapults uniform, and Fawkes' stand, and _A Better Way to Transfigure!_ If I were protected, then why has this happened?'

'These are items that are easily replaced,' Archaeon said. 'You still remain in possession of the Orb, the ankh and the Eye of Horus locket?'

'Yes, father,' Albus said.

'Then all is well,' Archaeon said. 'Your life is under protection by the locket and the ankh, not to mention those whose eyes watch out for you. And there is an even greater protection placed on you, one of which I cannot mention to you, so you have nothing to fear.'

'But I wish it to end,' Albus said. 'How many kidnappings and attacks must I endure before people will believe my side of the story? For how long must I play pariah whilst the Germans seek to steal the Everlasting Flame? When will this end?'

'As far as I can foretell,' Archaeon said carefully, 'and not being a Seer I cannot claim to have perfect foresight, not that any of them have perfect foresight either; I suspect that matters will come to a head at the end of the Third Task.'

'Does the Third Task have something to do with the Everlasting Flame?' asked Albus, desperately, almost frantic with desire that he be rid of the blight that was this Flame that he had never seen but could only dream of.

'I do not wish to reveal too much,' Archaeon said, exchanging an odd look with Professor Rolleston, 'seeing as you have been a close assistant of young Thomas. However, I wish for you to sleep fearlessly tonight. I will have a new copy of _A Better Way to Transfigure, _new Caerphilly Catapults robes and a new stand for Fawkes delivered in the morning.'

Archaeon proceeded to vanish the debris lying across Albus' floor, but Albus had just begun to register something that had failed to cross his mind since he walked in on the carnage in his room. Fawkes.

'Where is Fawkes?' Albus cried. 'What if Grindelwald murdered him?'

'Your phoenix is perfectly well,' Archaeon said calmly. 'Besides the fact that Grindelwald could _Avada Kedavra_ Fawkes until he was blue in the face, and he could disperse the ashes as far as he cared to; without doing the slightest damage to that bird; I am quite confident Fawkes vanished in time to avoid such a pointless exercise.'

For the second time Albus felt like lashing out, this time at his father. He could scarce believe that Archaeon could remain so infuriatingly calm during a time of immense crisis in his life. Were Albus' life a building, he could easily imagine all four walls tumbling down at the moment. Archaeon saw how distressed his son was, or perhaps his Legilimency allowed him to understand the way Albus felt, because he cast a spell on Albus which made his eyelashes heavy. He yawned loudly and within seconds had tumbled backwards into the comfort of his bed and fallen asleep.

* * *

The morning following was a Sunday, so the other nine Pirates were grouped around Albus' bed with wide eyes when he woke up. The moment he stirred, Victoria threw her arms around him. Albus had to push her away in order to breathe and take stock of his surroundings. He sat up to greet the expectant and sorry faces of his friends. A quick glance at his trunk revealed it empty of possessions. Archaeon had removed everything, which meant that everything would have to be replaced. All Albus had left were the robes he had fallen asleep in and the three possessions secretly concealed in his pockets.

'How are you feeling this morning?' asked Victoria, her dark eyes full of sympathy.

'As though I have had a pleasant night's sleep,' Albus said. He neglected to mention that he had not dreamed of the Everlasting Flame; the first time in months that it had not occupied his dreams. But Albus knew this to be the product of Archaeon's sleeping spell. He added, 'but waking up to the realization that Grindelwald Grundelwald destroyed my belongings and is to get away with it brings me down to earth with a thump.'

'Plenty of rumours have been going around,' Alabastor said, frowning, 'but this is the first we have heard of Grindelwald. He is only ten years old, how could he have done this?'

'That is what Professor Rolleston said,' Albus grumbled. He explained how he had noticed Grindelwald's absence at yesterday's Second Task, and connected the look Grindelwald had given him in Phineas Nigellus' dark tower during his kidnapping. Once Albus had finished speaking the Pirates were left in no doubt about Grindelwald's guilt.

'That beastly little German,' Victoria snarled. 'If I were to get hold of him, I'd poke out those ghastly white eyes!'

'That is precisely the opposite of what I would like,' Albus said. 'I fear for you, because …' here Albus paused, wondering if he could spare himself the embarrassment of revealing to the Pirates that Admiral Scholtz had probed his thoughts and discovered his feelings for Victoria. He relented and said, '…because Grindelwald knows that I like you, and he would hurt you if he could. He is a very strong wizard for a ten year-old.'

'No ten year-old could beat Albus Dumbledore in a duel, I'd be prepared to wager,' said Mars loyally.

'I would relish a duel with him,' Albus said.

'What if we Pirates could put our skulls together and conjure up a means of getting at that pesky little creature?' suggested Alabastor hopefully. 'Better yet, we could uncover proof that he is behind this.'

'Alas, my friend,' Albus said, 'I had proof of my kidnapping and the Minister for Magic would not believe me. Even the most lucid proof would fail to convince people that our German guests have nefarious plans underfoot. Let us cast aside any plans to prove anything. I want to focus on my schoolwork, if that is possible.'

'How can you focus on schoolwork after Grindelwald did this to you?' cried William, almost scandalized.

'I am not the vengeful sort, I have decided,' Albus said. 'I do not wish to grow up to be like Phineas Nigellus; rather, I wish to grow up like my father, who never avenges anything.'

'Albus, you are remarkable,' Emily said. 'My grandmother Griselda, she of OWL and NEWT examination fame, is the wisest person I know. But there are times when you seem almost as wise, and you are only twelve.'

Albus flushed red and shook his head.

'All I wish for is to be a boy quietly undergoing his education,' Albus said. 'Now have I slept through breakfast, or is there yet hope of gaining a piece of toast or two?'

'It is almost lunch,' Victoria said, 'which is actually why we are all crowded around your bed. We were going to wake you up to see the Tournament announcement.'

'What announcement?' asked Albus.

'A message was sent around the Houses this morning,' Victoria explained. 'It would seem that those little eggs the Champions collected have some significance for the Third Task, and the judges will be announcing something important at lunch.'

'I had better be getting up then, hadn't I?' Albus quipped. His friends were buoyed by the apparently cheerful manner in which he was dealing with his ruined room, and general laughter accompanied them down to the Great Hall. Albus was oblivious to the looks that followed him, for Hogwarts' ability to disperse gossip within hours of anything happening within the walls was as good as ever. Albus held his confident stride through the Great Hall for two reasons; first, he genuinely wished to forget what had happened, but he also wished to show Grindelwald and the other Black Forest School of Magical Arts people that he would not bow to their attacks. During the night Professor Rolleston's words had seeped into his conscience. He was showing deliberate courage.

The students of Hogwarts and of the two visiting schools ate lunch before any announcement was made. Albus kept looking at Archaeon at the staff table, trying to draw strength from the power emanating from his father. He diverted his eyes from the Black Forest School of Magical Arts pupils, most of which sat with Slytherin. He was interested to notice that several sat with Ravenclaw, whilst the Moskva Academy students had managed to distribute themselves almost evenly between the four Houses. He almost had to do a double-take when he saw that the gorgeous blonde Anastacia Volkova was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Thomas Jones at the Gryffindor table. Now what was happening there …

'Good afternoon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,' boomed the voice of Archaeon Dumbledore. Albus' head jerked back to the front, where his father was standing behind the podium, wearing a brilliant blue robe that clashed appropriately with his auburn hair. Archaeon went on, 'and greetings to the students of Moskva Academy and of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts. It is my very great pleasure to announce the nature of the Third Task, just a day after the Second. Could we please have the three Champions to the front?'

Thomas and Anastacia walked up from the Gryffindor table, shoulders still touching conspicuously, while Jannes Grundelwald lurched over from the Slytherin table. Albus shuddered at the sight of him. He managed to avoid eye contact with the little boy Jannes left behind at the Slytherin table. It was then that it occurred to Albus that Grindelwald was probably a student of the Black Forest School, despite only being ten. How else could one explain his near constant presence amidst the other, older students? Unless of course Jannes Grundelwald commanded such respect that he could have his younger brother along at all times.

'Very good,' Archaeon said; arms spread wide as if to welcome the three Champions to the front. 'Have you your Guides?'

The fact that all three Champions produced the egg-shaped objects that they had obtained in the maze yesterday made it clear to the audience that these were the Guides Archaeon was referring to.

'_Exponento cartum!'_ cried Archaeon, casting a spell at the Guides. Suddenly the ceiling of the Great Hall was filled with a vast and panoramic image, full of rich golden, yellow and brown tones. It appeared to be a multi-layered map, filled with hundreds of labels in at least five different scripts, so far as Albus could see. There was no doubt that some of the writing was in Egyptian hieroglyphic, but there were other languages there too, of which Albus lacked knowledge. Images were prominent through-out the map, and Albus' eyes were sharp enough to pick out what looked like the Pyramids at Giza in one portion of the map. The entire Great Hall was speechless at this wondrous display, hundreds of necks craned upward to see the multi-layered map. That was until it disappeared with a single spell from Archaeon. Everyone let out a sigh, as though the life had been temporarily taken out of them.

'That, my dear audience and Champions,' Archaeon said happily, as though you could see such a thing every day, 'is the Map required to win the Third Task. However, as the more astute among you might have realized, it required the three Guides to create. Each of the Champions possesses one of these Guides, and therefore is only able to access a portion of the Map. Now, as the standings go, Master Jones of Hogwarts is the clear leader, and as a reward for his excellent start, he will be receiving assistance of some kind during the Task. What that assistance is, I cannot say, for it would be revealing too much to the other Champions. They too will be receiving assistance at some point in the Task, but this will be proportionally less due to their lower place in the Tournament standings.'

'What are we searching for?' asked Jannes Grundelwald, a little presumptively Albus thought.

'The Third and final Task commences now and finishes in one hundred days exactly,' Archaeon said, clearly trying to drag out the dramatic announcement. Everyone was sitting on the edge of their seats, but Albus half knew the answer already. Archaeon said, 'so the Champions have one hundred days to use their portion of the Map to track down something very powerful. It is an object of legend, an object that wizards and witches have yearned to grasp hold of for centuries.'

'Tell us already!' yelled Aberforth from the audience.

'Impatience noted, son of mine,' Archaeon said, smiling wryly. 'The Champions of the Triwizard Tournament have one hundred days to find … the Everlasting Flame.'

* * *

Author's Note – thank you to those who keep reviewing. I hope you are enjoying the steady influx of chapters. Happy Easter to one and to all. 


	18. Mysteries, Clues and Dead Ends

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"In life; do we ever truly know what we are doing?"

* * *

Chapter 18 – Mysteries, Clues and Dead Ends

Albus let out a gasp of disbelief, but he was the only person in the Great Hall to do so. Several heads turned in his direction and his cheeks went pink. Once their attentions were diverted again by the chatter that rose amongst the students, the Gryffindor second years confronted Albus in whispers.

'What is so special about the Everlasting Flame?' William asked.

'Or more importantly, what is the Everlasting Flame?' Victoria asked. Of the nine other second years, only Mars had a look of comprehension on his face. He had, after all, been in the Chamber of the Everlasting Flame with Albus all the way back in the summer holidays, when Archaeon had revealed it to be "missing". Albus now knew that it was not missing, but that Archaeon Dumbledore had removed it from the Temple of Ast and taken it somewhere. Where, only Archaeon knew.

'I shall tell you in a while,' Albus said, pointing at the front. Archaeon Dumbledore was holding his arms up in a call for silence, about to make another announcement.

'The three components of the Map available to the Champions in their Guides will lead them across dozens of countries over the next hundred days,' Archaeon said. 'Their journeys will be arduous and filled with magical obstacles and challenges. There are approximately one hundred clues for the Champions to solve, and only a true Champion will be able to accomplish the finding of the Everlasting Flame within a hundred days. In terms of the help granted to the Champions, it will come at an unexpected time, in an unexpected fashion. Do not rely on help to achieve this Task! One hundred days from now, we will all be waiting for you here, in the Great Hall, to see which Champion returns bearing the Everlasting Flame. You may go.'

The three Champions paused in front of Archaeon, as if unsure what to do with themselves. Jannes Grundelwald was the first to respond. He turned on his heels and strode confidently down the main aisle towards the door. Admiral Scholtz, Grindelwald and a half-dozen of the Black Forest students also got to their feet and followed him out. Albus could hardly believe how blatantly obvious their intention to help him with the Task was! And Scholtz was one of the five judges, for Merlin's sake!

Anastacia Volkova followed in Grundelwald's stead, and, like the Germans had, Dr Vladimir Strovsky and a few of her schoolmates from the Moskva Academy accompanied her out. Thomas Jones cut quite a lonely figure walking to the door without Professor Prewett or any other staff member in pursuit, but a half-dozen of his Gryffindor friends loyally got to their feet and followed. Just as he passed the second years, Thomas gave Albus a concerted look. Albus was smart enough to interpret that Thomas wanted to consult the Orb of Duality before he embarked on his epic hundred-day Task.

'There is not time to explain what the Everlasting Flame is,' Albus hastily told his friends. 'I will tell you about it once I have seen Thomas off. You see, I have been assisting him in the first two Tasks by letting him read the Orb of Duality. He needs to use it again before he goes.'

Albus waited until other people in the Great Hall started getting to their feet so that his sudden exit was not so conspicuous. He hurried out the door and made a beeline for Gryffindor Tower. Along the way, he had the cold sensation of being watched, a tingling of the fine hairs on the back of his neck. But it was only a sensation of being watched, no more, as though the watcher had no intention of coming after him, not yet anyway.

He found Thomas in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by dozens of well-wishers but clearly looking like he wanted to be alone with the few he respected enough to use as advisors. He looked relieved to see Albus, pushing past the haggle of girls and hurrying up to meet him.

'We must go to the turret at once,' he said. 'I do not wish for Grundelwald to get a day's start on me, but it is vital that I obtain what I can from the Orb.'

'What about Volkova?' Albus asked; following a flustered Thomas through the portrait hole and past yet more admirers and well-wishers. He had to endure a dozen pats on the back before they were clear in the corridors and he could reply to Albus' question.

'Anastacia and I have formed something akin to an alliance,' Thomas said, smiling with a wistful look at the ceiling. 'I think she plans to lose contact with Dr Strovsky as soon as is possible and meet up with me. From there, we shall confront this Task together.'

'Are you certain she would be loyal to you?' Albus said, totally perplexed by Thomas' belief in this foreign girl. Much as he liked Victoria, Albus was not yet old enough to understand the true power of love.

'Oh, Anastacia and I have agreed to be honest with one another,' Thomas said, ruffling Albus' hair as if to confirm that he was still a child. 'We will probably part ways when we are a few days short of our target. We both wish to win, but we share the common aim that one of us two wins ahead of Jannes Grundelwald.'

'That is a fair arrangement,' Albus said, shrugging. He supposed the beautiful Russian blonde would make a better Champion than Grundelwald, and he had yet to see any evidence of dark motives coming from Dr Strovsky and his students.

Thomas and Albus arrived at their secret turret in the highest tower and took their customary seats against the wall inside a little enclave. Albus unveiled the Orb with the _Amon-nu_ spell and gave the smoky black ball to Thomas.

'Orb, where is the Everlasting Flame?' asked Thomas without hesitation. Albus grinned. Wouldn't it be something if Thomas could return with the Everlasting Flame after just one day of a hundred day contest? The Orb went smoky white, the smoke faded and a single sentence written in gold lettering appeared.

'_Safely stored in its rightful place in the Temple of Ast'_

Thomas looked jubilant, but Albus was crestfallen. He waited desperately for a second answer to emerge, but none was forthcoming.

'I have bad omens, Thomas,' Albus said. 'I was in the Temple of Ast in the summer holidays, and I saw the bracket where the Everlasting Flame is meant to lie. It was absent, and I am certain that my father has removed it.'

'You mean to say that the Orb has revealed a lie, and not the true location of the Flame?' asked Thomas. 'Are you certain your father hasn't put it back since then?'

'As certain as I am that this answer is a lie,' Albus said. 'Try asking something else.'

'Very well,' said Thomas, holding the Orb aloft in his two hands. 'O Orb, how can I find the Everlasting Flame?'

'_Follow the Guides'_ was the instantaneous reply.

'That is the truth,' Albus said, shaking his head, 'and an obvious truth at that. The Orb is being deliberately difficult today!'

'It has helped me to win the first Two Tasks,' Thomas said grittily, 'I am determined that it will help me win the Third. Orb, what is the first thing I must do in order to win the Third Task?'

This time the Orb responded with two answers:

'_Hasten away from this place for danger here lurks'_

'_Peruse the texts in the library for answers there lie'_

'Oh I am lost!' Thomas bewailed. 'Neither of these answers are a blatant lie, and neither or them sound entirely true. Which is the truth?'

'I think I know,' Albus said, a tightness creeping into his gut again. 'I think it is the first answer. There is a great deal of danger in this place. The Grundelwald brothers … Admiral Scholtz … these are bad people and they will do whatever it takes to obtain the Everlasting Flame. I think you should leave Hogwarts at once.'

'But … but the Orb!' Thomas protested. 'I need this in order to win. Oh, Albus, I beseech you to let me take it!'

'I cannot do that,' Albus said immediately. 'It was entrusted to me and I alone can keep it. But I have can idea … can you apparate?'

'Well, I'm not yet seventeen,' Thomas said, but he lowered his voice as if to keep Professor Prewett from listening in, she of the hawk ears, 'but I have been doing it for the last few months. We have been having lessons in the Great Hall in preparation for our test once we turn seventeen.'

'That is perfect,' Albus said happily. 'Rather than burden you with the Orb during your travels, which you could easily lose or have stolen from you, I shall keep it. And, every night at midnight, you can apparate back to the gates of Hogwarts. I will borrow William Potter's invisibility cloak and sneak down to meet you every night; and you can consult the Orb. Hopefully it will not be this obstinate every time you ask it questions.'

'You are a mite genius,' Thomas said, grabbing Albus in a headlock and ruffling his hair. 'That is a perfectly splendid plan.'

'Well in that case,' Albus said, struggling to escape from the headlock, 'you had better be listening to the Orb and getting away from Hogwarts.'

'But what if the truth is that I should be reading texts in the library?' asked Thomas uncertainly.

'Then I shall spend every spare minute in the library,' Albus said, 'and if anything arises from my readings I can tell you at midnights.'

'I cannot express how remarkable you are,' Thomas said. 'If they hold this Tournament again before you leave Hogwarts, you will be Hogwarts Champion and you will win it.'

'Perhaps, but we have to see you home first,' Albus said, trying to ignore the praise. 'Come on, be off with you.'

Thomas gave the Orb back to Albus for concealment and got to his feet. He shook hands with Albus, a grim look on his face, and then he was gone. Moments after he had vanished down the stairwell, Albus came to a shocking realization: Thomas was going off into the magical, dangerous world without a shred of protection.

'Thomas!' he yelled, running as fast as his legs would carry him down the stairs without falling head over heals. 'Thomas, wait!'

'What is it, Albus?' asked Thomas, hurrying up around a bend in the stairwell and crashing head first with Albus' chest. By some stroke of fortune neither fell over, just holding on to their balance by clutching at the stone wall.

'I want you to take this with you,' Albus said, '_Amon-nu.' _He revealed the Eye of Horus locket that Archaeon had given to him at the start of the year. Archaeon had said to him that it would prove 'useful this year'. Albus now realized what that use was. He presented the locket to Thomas and said, 'this is the Eye of Horus, a protective locket my father gave to me. I will conceal it on your person and then it will protect you while you undertake the Third Task.'

'Are you certain?' Thomas said. 'Wouldn't your father have given you the locket for your own protection?'

'I have an ankh from the Temple of Ast,' Albus said, fingering the sapphire ankh in his pocket. 'Besides, your need is presently far greater than mine. I will not take no for an answer.'

Albus reached forward and dropped the locket inside Thomas' pocket, concealing it as he did so. Thomas tried to find it, but could not.

'Where did it go?' Thomas asked, bewildered. 'I cannot even feel its weight!'

'That is because I have concealed it,' Albus said. 'Provided you are wearing this robe at all times, you cannot come to harm. Now go, before you fail to follow the instructions of the Orb!'

Thomas hurried off down the stairwell, and Albus followed at a slower pace. He felt only marginally better now that Thomas was protected by the Eye of Horus, particularly because he now felt more vulnerable than ever. Another major concern that crossed his mind was the fact that Archaeon had put the Everlasting Flame up for anyone to claim! After all this secrecy and protection, how could his father do something like that with an object as precious as the Everlasting Flame? Was he luring the Germans into a false sense of hope, or was he simply out of his mind? Albus could not fathom the rationing of his father, but chose not to dwell on it. Archaeon had never failed him as a father thus far, and he hoped that this would not be the first time.

Back in the Gryffindor common room Albus had no choice but to explain what the Everlasting Flame was to an attentive audience of Gryffindors. Not only were the Pirates crowded around his couch, but all the first years and several third and fourth years stood about, undisguised interest on their faces. Albus' face grew hot as he began to explain everything that he understood of this mysterious light.

'I have had the privilege of accompanying my father on a few expeditions to Egypt,' Albus said, 'where he works as an Archaeowizard digging up ancient magical treasures and lost cities. This summer past he was digging up the Temple of Ast, and Mars McGonagal and I both ventured into the innermost chamber. We weren't supposed to, but we did, and we found what was meant to be the bracket wherein the Everlasting Flame is kept.'

'That is very interesting,' said an impatient third year named Clarence Buckley, 'but what is it? What is the Everlasting Flame?'

'I was getting to that,' Albus said. 'Ast is another name for Isis, the supreme goddess of the Egyptians, muggle and magical. I read about a myth in _Magyk before the fall of Empyres _by Achmed Al-Mohammed in which Isis, upon marrying the Sun God Ra, received a gift of everlasting fire. It is this Everlasting Flame which used to be kept in the Temple of Ast, until my father came and removed it for the Triwizard Tournament.'

'Are you certain he was the one who removed it?' demanded Clarence Buckley. 'What is he is merely using the Tournament as a means to find the Everlasting Flame for himself?'

'Don't be absurd!' yelled Aberforth, stepping out of the shadows where he had been listening to Albus' tale. 'Our father is a great and good wizard. If he wanted the Everlasting Flame for himself, he would already have it. The Three Guides and the Map have clearly been created by our father to lead the Champions to the Flame, where so ever he hid it.'

A couple of Clarence Buckley's third year compatriots started bagging him for being such an idiot as to accuse Archaeon Dumbledore of nefarious motives. The second years were intent on Albus, however, and William demanded that he finish his story.

'What is so special about the Everlasting Flame?' asked William. 'That is what I would like to know.'

'I am not entirely sure of it myself,' Albus said. 'From memory, _Magyk before the fall of Empyres_ said something about it giving the bearer eternal life, or perhaps some sort of godly protection against the magic of the world.'

'Then there is no doubt why Grundelwald and his ghastly Headmaster seem so eager to obtain it,' Victoria said. She received strange looks from the students in the other years (none of them knew the details of Albus' kidnapping and Grindelwald's attack on Albus' room), so the second years ended their conversation until everyone else had drifted away and they could speak in private.

'You are clearly too deeply involved in this to allow Grundelwald to get the Everlasting Flame first,' Alabastor said astutely. 'So what do you intend to do?'

'Exactly as I have promised Thomas,' Albus said. 'He will come back to Hogwarts every … every now and again to consult the Orb. But further down the line I do not really know how I can help. I will read as much as I can in the library, but other than that I really fail to see how I can help him.'

'But that means that Grundelwald could win the Tournament!' cried Victoria. 'If he was prepared to cheat in the Second Task, then surely he will do it again.'

'I have no doubt,' Albus said. 'But I trust my father. He said Thomas would get some special kind of assistance at an unknown time and place because he is leading the Tournament, but more importantly, I know my father could not put the Everlasting Flame in danger of being stolen by the Germans.'

'Well it seems to me that he has,' Alabastor said. Albus hated Alabastor for saying it, but the truth was too hard to ignore. Archaeon was up to something that made little sense.

* * *

Albus spent the remainder of the day in the Hogwarts library, crooked nose immersed in such voluminous texts as _Magykel Escapaydes, Codes of the Egyptians_ and _Grail Quests and other Tragedies. _The Pirates accompanied him, but only to do their homework, and every five minutes or so Albus was interrupted by Maggie asking him what the correct ingredients for a Simmering Sheen were or Alabastor wanting to know whether Merlin had lived to three hundred or four hundred for his History of Magic essay. Eventually Albus gave in and abandoned his search for knowledge to help Thomas, admitting that he had his own homework to complete and in so doing was able to help his friends.

That night the Gryffindor second years played board games in the firelight. Albus was too distracted by the fact that he was going to be meeting Thomas for the first time at midnight that he lost four consecutive chess games to Mars.

'You're not usually this hopeless,' Mars remarked. 'Anyone else fancy a game? Dumbledore is vanquished.'

Albus let Mars have his victory moment, staring into the fire in mixed anticipation and dread of what the evening held. He had not summoned the courage to ask William permission to use his invisibility cloak, so he was going to have to borrow it without asking. But more risky was the trip through Hogwarts castle and across the grounds in the middle of the night to meet with Thomas. He wondered if this was such a good idea after all, but there was no backing out. Thomas would be waiting for him at midnight, and he had to be there.

'We're going to bed, are you coming?' asked Mars after he had thrashed Alabastor and Edward in successive games. The girls had already left a few minutes prior.

'In a while,' Albus said, feigning a yawn and a sleepy stretch. 'I am very comfortable here at present.'

'Very well,' Mars said, and the other four boys hurried upstairs in a howl of pushing, shoving and laughter. Albus regretted not being a part of the amusement, but he had more worldly concerns to deal with.

At a quarter to midnight, Albus hustled upstairs to the boys' dormitory. Only once he was certain that the snores from William were genuine, did he start probing inside William's trunk for the silky soft invisibility cloak. He felt immensely guilty doing it, but it was necessary. He donned the cloak and disappeared out the door.

From the portrait hole it was a long and chilly walk down Hogwarts' darkened, still corridors. The wind was howling somewhere in the dungeons, or perhaps that was Peeves giving the Slytherins a torrid night. Whatever it was, Albus sensed a chill on his neck, much the same as the feeling of being watched he'd had earlier in the day. He came to the great Hogwarts entrance, feeling miniscule beneath its towering height, and slipped through the door as quietly as was possible; which meant of course that the door uttered a horrendous creak that seemed to echo all the way up the many stairwells of Hogwarts and would surely awaken every Professor from their sleep.

Albus ran out into the chilly night, clutching the invisibility cloak around him and feeling like the whole world was chasing after him. He pulled out his wand to light the way in front of him. The Hogwarts gates seemed a mile off, but he arrived puffing and panting before he knew it.

Albus stopped cold. There was something unnatural about the scene. He slipped through the gates, looking around uncertainly. The fine hairs on his skin were all upright, tingling madly. He could feel power radiating from somewhere, and it unsettled him.

That was when Albus saw Thomas' body lying in the snow.

He hurried forward, collapsing on his knees beside his older friend, hardly believing what he saw. The invisibility cloak fell from his shoulders as the truth hit home. Thomas Jones' blue eyes were staring blankly at the star-strewn sky, his pale white face lifeless.

'No, Thomas, no,' Albus cried, 'no, not you, Fawkes couldn't have meant you!'

'Stand up and face me, Dumbledore,' said the heavy, thick German voice of Jannes Grundelwald. Albus spun about so fast he nearly fell backwards onto Thomas' body.

'You killed him!' Albus yelled, feeling every bone in his body burn with hatred for Grundelwald.

'I offered him his life in exchange for his Guide,' Jannes Grundelwald explained, 'and he refused. So I killed him, and I will shortly remove his Guide from him regardless. _Expelliarmus!'_

Albus saw his wand sail away into the fitful night. He now stood unarmed, defenseless against his enemy. Grundelwald bound him with an anti-disapparation jinx and a body-bind to prevent him from moving a step in any direction. Albus was powerless.

'How did you know about our meeting?' Albus demanded, hoping that he could get Grundelwald talking and thereby delay his death, at least long enough for help to arrive, if help existed.

'I happened to probe Jones' mind as he left Hogwarts this morning,' Grundelwald said, baring his yellow teeth in a leer. My inquiries also revealed that you use the _Amon-hen _to conceal the Orb of Duality on your person. And no, I am not going to stand here talking just so that you can await rescue. I do not waste time.'

Grundelwald advanced on Albus with his wand held aloft.

'_Amon-nu!'_ he cried. Albus felt the Orb of Duality heavy inside his pocket. Grundelwald said, '_Accio _Orb!'

With his heart tumbling into the snow, Albus could only watch as the Orb sailed through the air into the greedy hands of Jannes Grundelwald.

'That is not yours to take!' screamed Albus, but Grundelwald had taken from him all that he desired. He was finished with him.

'_Avada Kedavra!'_ cried Grundelwald.

A jet of green light shot towards Albus from Grundelwald's wand. Bound by the body-bind, he could only watch as his death came towards him.

Albus felt a strange sensation as the spell hit. The anti-disapparation jinx and the body-bind seemed to come undone, and though Albus fell backwards into the snow, he definitely did not feel dead. Grundelwald looked momentarily stunned to see Albus still alive and moving, so Albus used this to his advantage.

'_Accio _wand!' cried Albus, every inch of him straining to make the wand-less magic work. To his surprise and delight, he felt his willow wand fly into his hand. At the tender age of twelve, Albus had achieved wand-less magic for the first time in his life. He cried, _'Impedimenta!'_ but the spell missed the astonished Grundelwald. Jannes disapparated; he was clearly unwilling to engage Albus in combat.

Albus scampered over to Thomas' lifeless body, tears now seeping down his face.

'Oh, I have failed you Thomas!' he cried. 'Jannes has the Orb, and you are dead!'

'No, I am not,' Thomas said, sitting up bolt upright. Albus gave a shriek and fell backwards into the snow, his heart pounding like cannon-fire. Thomas got up swiftly and helped Albus to his feet. Albus could barely stand. His mind was a maelstrom of confused thoughts. How had he survived the _Avada Kedavra? _How had Thomas survived it?

'How are we alive?' Albus murmured.

'Why, the Eye of Horus is what saved me,' Thomas said. 'Grundelwald appeared before me, disarmed me, bound me with anti-disapparation jinxes and demanded the Guide. I refused, so he cast the _Avada Kedavra._ It never hit me, but I fell back in the snow and was rendered motionless. At first I thought I was dead, but then I realized that I could still feel the snow around me. I think the Eye of Horus took the spell.'

'Ah, of course!' exclaimed Albus. 'For no person can survive the _Avada Kedavra. _My sapphire ankh must have absorbed the spell for me also, though I cannot explain why I was able to move and you were not.'

'The two devices must work by different means,' Thomas said. 'But come, we are standing in the open and grave danger is all around us. Pull on the invisibility cloak and let us go back to Hogwarts where we are safer.'

Thomas led a shaken Albus back to the castle. Nothing was said between them until they were inside the Entrance Hall.

'I am dreadfully sorry, Thomas, but Grundelwald has the Orb now,' Albus said.

'I heard him take it from you,' Thomas said, 'but let us look on the bright side. You scared him off so he forgot to take the Guide from me. At least we have that small thing to hold fast to.'

'I hope the Orb is revolting to him,' Albus spat. 'I hope it utters nothing but lies.'

'I do not think the Orb picks and chooses,' Thomas said, 'but that is no longer our concern. Come; let us go into the Great Hall. I came for your help, and I may as well use it.'

'What use am I now?' said Albus miserably. 'I have no longer got the Orb.'

'You know more about Egyptian magic than anyone at this school,' Thomas said, 'and most of my portion of the Map is drawn in hieroglyphics. I cannot lose anything from letting you take a look.'

Thomas pulled Albus into the Great Hall and unveiled the contents of his Guide. The ceiling filled with the yellow, brown and gold tones of the Map, but a much smaller portion of it than the whole school had seen that morning. Albus and Thomas stood in the middle of the Great Hall, staring up at the ceiling at the wondrous Map.

'So what have you accomplished thus far?' asked Albus.

'I have visited the most obvious point on the Map, the Pyramids at Giza,' Thomas said. He pointed at the Pyramids that Albus had noticed earlier that day.

'What did you find there?' asked Albus.

'Well, only an entrance to a maze,' Thomas said. 'I dared not venture inside it, for if I were to get lost in a Pyramid I would never emerge. One cannot disapparate from inside a Pyramid. I thought you might be able to help me read all these hieroglyphics around the Pyramid on the Map.'

Albus strained his eyes to read the hieroglyphics. He had a limited understanding of them thanks to two visits to Egypt with his father. Archaeon was an accomplished reader of hieroglyphics and had taught Albus some of the basics. Albus knew enough to give Thomas a fragment of help.

'I think the symbols indicate that you need to take the first left, and thereafter take every right turn you meet,' Albus said. 'Use a compass spell to keep track of where you are, but it is not so much a maze as a spiral. You will eventually be led into the inner chamber, but I suppose you will probably encounter several magical obstacles.'

'That makes sense,' Thomas said. 'I suspect that I may be more than a few days inside that Pyramid. Given what has happened tonight, we should not meet again outside Hogwarts. In future, if I need your counsel I will come up to your dormitory. But do not await my coming.'

'I wouldn't expect to,' Albus said, 'for I do not think I can be much further help to you without the Orb.'

'I would not have got this far without you,' Thomas said, 'so do not feel bad in the slightest. Now I had better be going. With every minute Grundelwald is closer to the Everlasting Flame and I will not have him winning.'

'Aren't you going to report his attempt to murder us both?' Albus asked.

'I trust you to do so,' Thomas said. 'You have time, I have not.'

'But they won't believe me!' Albus protested. He was not ready to have his story disbelieved for a third time in succession.

'I am certain they will,' Thomas said. 'Farewell, Albus Dumbledore.'

Thomas was gone from the Great Hall before Albus could issue another protest. In his absence Albus felt wholly alone inside the vast Hall, underneath a sky riddled with stars. There were only two options now.

'Fawkes,' Albus muttered softly. 'Come here.'

A flash of flame announced the arrival of his crimson plumed phoenix. Fawkes landed on Albus' shoulder and nuzzled his cheek.

'Fawkes, I need you to do two things for me,' Albus said. 'First of all, go to my father and convey to him the gravity of what has just happened. Grundelwald tried to murder Thomas and me, and he stole the Orb of Duality that you gave me! Once you have done that, you must promise me to watch out for Thomas for the remainder of the Task. Follow him, and keep your watchful eye on him.'

Fawkes turned his deep, mysteriously swirling eyes on Albus and conveyed that he understood, and would do as Albus asked. Then, without a sound, the phoenix vanished and left Albus alone again. Albus pulled the invisibility cloak over his head and returned to Gryffindor, feeling more helpless and empty than he ever had. He deposited William's cloak back where it belonged and clambered into bed, only to lie there the whole night with recurring visions of a green flash of light coming towards him and striking him down…

* * *

Author's Note – thanks to the influx of reviews over the Easter Weekend. As a reward, I hereby post this chapter up the day after the last one. Enjoy, for the story will soon be at its end… your loyal Grandson of Dumbledore! 


	19. Albus Dreaming

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"The difference between a day and a hundred is only time"

* * *

Chapter 19 – Albus Dreaming

Albus had barely fallen asleep when a brilliant white glow filled his vision. It was the same dream that he had been having all year, but this time was different. This time, Albus was able to see more than just a light. There was something else behind the light, but it was swathed in darkness. Albus strained his eyes to see, but the shape was dull and murky. He was almost ready to believe that it was a piece of metal, when he heard a loud voice breaking through the silence of his dream.

'Albus; wake up,' said a familiar voice, 'Albus, get up!'

Albus opened his eyes. It took him several blinks to identify the auburn bearded figure of Archaeon standing over his bed. Archaeon had his wand illuminated over Albus' face. It was the second time this had happened, that Archaeon had a lit wand over Albus' face while he dreamed of a light. Albus shook his head. Was he really dreaming about the Everlasting Flame, or was it simply the light from Archaeon's wand?

'Father,' Albus mumbled, swallowing away his dry throat. 'Why are you here?'

'The same reason you sent Fawkes to me,' Archaeon said. 'Come on, we are to meet with Professor Prewett in her office.'

Albus stumbled out of bed and dressed in the robe he'd cast on the floor after his midnight excursion with Thomas. The reason why he had sent Fawkes to Archaeon came flooding back, and a sick feeling returned to Albus' stomach. He had faced down an _Avada Kedavra_ tonight, and the memory of that green flash of light coming towards him sent chills down his spine. Even the warmth emanating from Archaeon was not enough to heat the ice in Albus' soul that dark night.

Albus found Professor Prewett's office busier than he had expected once he and Archaeon had ascended the spiral staircase. Professor Prewett was in a nightgown, her grey hair trailing down her back rather haphazardly, clearly having just woken up herself. She was striding the length of her room, looking worried. Professor Rolleston was in a crimson gown with a golden edge, sitting rather comfortably on a couch, but looking equally concerned. His dark eyes shot straight at Albus, not leaving him thereafter. The third person in Professor Prewett's office was Professor Januar Solstice. The dark-skinned man was wearing his typical white robe, but he looked bleary eyed. Albus figured it must be at least three in the morning.

'Sit down, Albus,' Archaeon said, pushing him into a chair. He took a seat on the sofa opposite, and Professor Prewett joined them on a hard wooden seat. The other three adults turned their attentions first to Archaeon. The great wizard spoke in very low tones, as though worried that one of the portraits on the wall might be eavesdropping. He said, 'Albus sent Fawkes to me about half an hour ago, reporting that he had gone for a midnight meeting with Thomas Jones at the gates of Hogwarts, where both were attacked and endured the _Avada Kedavra_ from Jannes Grundelwald.'

'What?' the three Professors cried simultaneously. Professor Prewett looked ready to faint. Professor Rolleston exclaimed, 'no Archaeon; that is surely not true! Albus, are you convinced you are speaking the truth and nothing but?'

'Ryan,' said Archaeon in a calm but commanding voice, 'you are welcome to make use of Veritaserum, but it will not be necessary. I believe Albus.'

'Grundelwald used the _Avada Kedavra?' _said Professor Prewett. 'Did he … did he miss? How then is Albus alive to speak of it?'

'As I have already informed you, Athene,' Archaeon said, 'my son has protective devices in his possession, and he clearly had the foresight to give Thomas the use of one of them. Grundelwald's _Avada Kedavra_ would have had no effect on them. It is fortunate he did not recast the spells, because the protection is only temporary.'

'Do you mean I could have died if he had done it again?' cried Albus.

'Most probably,' Archaeon said, as though he were discussing tea and biscuits. 'I did give you two protective devices, so you could have survived the spell twice, but you chose to give one to Thomas. Highly commendable, but it could have backfired.'

'Why didn't you tell me any of this?' said Albus softly. Either Archaeon did not hear him, or chose not to respond, because he continued to address the other adults.

'How did Albus get out of the building without the portraits noticing?' Professor Solstice said in his quiet way. 'Surely not all of them were asleep?'

'Yes, that is a worthy question,' Archaeon said, turning to Albus. 'How did you get out of the castle without being seen?'

'I … I borrowed … a friend's invisibility cloak,' Albus said, determined not to reveal William's secret after he'd not even had the decency to ask him to use it.

'Someone in Gryffindor has an invisibility cloak?' cried Professor Prewett, her eye looking twice as large as it ought to in her monocle.

'Leave the issue, Athene,' Professor Rolleston said, a perceptive gaze fixed on Albus through his half-moon glasses. I do not think the boy wishes to break his friend's trust.

'Very well,' Professor Prewett said, sniffing irritably. 'But what in Merlin's name were you doing visiting Thomas Jones at midnight outside the protective walls of Hogwarts?'

'I … I have been helping him with the Tasks,' Albus said. 'I have an Orb of Duality, no, I had one. Grundelwald stole it from me, and now he is going to use it to win the Tournament and take the Everlasting Flame! Father, how could you put the Everlasting Flame up for capture in a Tournament, when you know bad people are after it?'

'Hush up, Albus,' Archaeon said loudly, 'you do not know what you are talking about. I trust my own judgement, thank you very kindly. What I am concerned about, Athene, is the danger Grundelwald poses to his fellow competitors. I assume he took Thomas' Guide?'

'No, he hasn't,' Albus said, letting the relief show on his face. 'He was about to take it off him when I arrived, and when I did not die from the _Avada Kedavra, _Grundelwald left.'

'Good,' Archaeon said, 'then Thomas can continue with the Third Task. But he is in grave danger, and Volkova too, if Grundelwald is willing to murder for the sake of victory. In the light of this, we must arrange some plan to protect the boy.'

'I have sent Fawkes after him,' Albus said. 'I told Fawkes to keep watch over him.'

'Albus,' Archaeon said chidingly, but there was a hint of pride in his voice, 'how many of your protections are you going to surrender in the name of other people?'

'What do you mean, father?' said Albus, his brow furled with worry. 'I only meant to help Thomas.'

'You did the right thing,' Archaeon ceded, 'however, every so often in this life one must look out for one's own protection. Never mind, Fawkes has it within him to watch over the both of you. Now; Athene, Januar, Ryan, what are we to do?'

'I would have Grundelwald expelled from the Tournament and the country,' Professor Prewett snarled.

'That has already been ruled out by the Minister,' Archaeon said. 'Besides, he has a Guide already, and I would not be Archaeon Dumbledore if Admiral Scholtz has not already replicated the Guide and employed several other wizards in the pursuit of the Everlasting Flame.'

'Father!' cried Albus, almost bursting with frustration. The more they spoke of it, the less sense it made that Archaeon had made the precious Everlasting Flame available to evil wizards. It was almost as though Archaeon was inviting them to take it. Albus said, 'I still fail to see how you could put the Everlasting Flame in a place where it could easily be stolen by dark wizards! I thought you sought to keep powerful magical objects away from dark wizards, not hand it to them on a platter!'

'Albus, for the second time, you do not know what you are talking about,' Archaeon said, growing visibly irritated. Albus actually shivered, for rarely did one ever see a frown on the great man's normally placid face. Archaeon said, 'I assure you, the Everlasting Flame is not on a platter, nor will it be easily stolen. I have made it the target of the Triwizard Tournament, but I have made sure it will not readily be stolen. You will understand at a later time. Now, I think you had better be returning to bed. You are tired and, understandably, grumpy after what you have been through. Professors, have you any further questions of my son?'

The Professors shook their heads. Professor Rolleston offered to escort Albus back to Gryffindor, seeing as the Portraits had not been watchful enough already that night. On the way back, he put a reassuring hand on Albus' shoulder.

'Your father is being very coy for a good reason, Albus,' Professor Rolleston said. 'He knows that you are helping Thomas, and he can hardly go telling you where the Everlasting Flame is and how it is protected now, can he? Thomas has to win this for himself … with a little help from his friends.'

Feeling a little better, Albus posed a question of the bearded Housemaster.

'Is it true, sir, that you have been helping Thomas as well?' Albus asked.

'It is,' Professor Rolleston whispered. 'Only a tad, I might add, but I thought that the other two were getting far too much help from their Headmasters and it was only fair that Thomas had a leg up. After all, he is Hogwarts' great hope, isn't he?'

'Er, Professor,' Albus said timidly, hoping to ask a question he had been dying to hear the answer to all year, 'you said the Goblet of Fire was certain to choose me. Then, why did it choose Thomas?'

Professor Rolleston stopped in the middle of the dark corridor, his luminous wand lighting up his face and making his glasses shimmer like crescent moons reflected on water. He considered Albus for a minute, making up his mind whether or not to tell him the answer.

'The Goblet of Fire did not choose you, Albus,' Professor Rolleston said, 'because I jinxed it not to. Your father expressly did not want you entering the Triwizard Tournament, and even after I encouraged you not to enter, you did. So I had to prevent the Goblet from picking you.'

'But why?' asked Albus, his voice cracking ever so slightly with emotion. 'Does my father think me too weak to enter? Am I not good enough?'

'Neither of those things,' Professor Rolleston said, patting Albus on the head. 'Your father knows how good you are. However, surely; after seeing Grundelwald try to murder you and Thomas, you understand why your father did not want you entering? As it is, you are more involved than any of us had anticipated. You have a habit of sticking your crooked nose into everything.'

Albus grinned sheepishly. Professor Rolleston was right. He accepted the explanation and gladly hurried off to bed. It had been another exhausting day and Albus had barely the energy to face another day. He needed whatever sleep he could muster.

* * *

Albus felt strangely separate from his classmates and friends in the weeks that followed. It was not that they knew much less than he did about the things that had happened than he had. After all, the Hogwarts portraits ensured that everyone knew about Grundelwald's attempt to murder Thomas Jones before lunch the day after it happened. This time Albus name was not mentioned, perhaps the result of a direct instruction from Archaeon to leave him out of the story. Whatever the reason, Albus was glad. He wanted to be inconspicuous for a while, to not feel like a hundred eyes were upon him at all times.

Albus had worries beyond those of a normal Hogwarts student. While most people would mention the Triwizard Tournament once every few days with a remark like, 'I wonder how Thomas is doing', or 'I wonder where in the world the Champions are at this time', Albus had a near-constant butterfly fluttering in his stomach. It was not only that he worried for Thomas' life, but also that he feared the consequences if Grundelwald, Admiral Scholtz or someone else got hold of the Everlasting Flame. He had a nasty recurring vision (one that often appeared in his head in the hazy fumes of the Potions classroom), whereby Phineas Nigellus had the Everlasting Flame and came up to him and Archaeon and murdered them both, being protected from Archaeon's spells by the Flame.

Moreover, Albus kept a constant lookout for Thomas Jones. He would spend hours in the library after school, paging his way through every book not in the Restricted Section that he could lay his hands on, determined to find something that would help Thomas. At nights, he would lie awake for hours, tossing and turning. He was waiting for Thomas to come back to him, almost certain that the Champion would seek his counsel. Of course there were the voices in Albus' head that said, 'he is a sixth year, why would he need your help?' and 'you do not have the Orb anymore, you are no use to him.' But the proud side of Albus was convinced that Thomas would, for hadn't Thomas said that Albus knew 'more about Egyptian magic than anyone else at this school'?

In a lesser student, the constant worry would have crippled their schoolwork. But Albus found solace in the classroom, where he could concentrate on performing perfect spells, concocting excellent draughts, performing immaculate transfigurations and keeping his Bawling Begonias in their preferred state of weeping constantly. It was outside the classroom that Albus changed. He rarely spoke when in the company of the other Gryffindor second years. Where Albus had previously been the undisputed leader and usual centre of attention, that hole was now filled by Alabastor and William's bickering or Emily's loud and authoritative voice. The Pirates drifted apart as they had done before, separating into smaller groups. William, Alabastor, Emily and Maggie were the loud, constantly cheerful gang among the second years. Edward, Annabel and Elizabeth were the quiet trio that went about their business without fuss. And Mars and Victoria were left to be the uneasy companions of Albus.

But hard as Mars tried to bring up topics like whether the Caerphilly Catapults would win their semi-final match-up against his beloved Haversfield Hawks, a topic he had been sure Albus would respond to, or how hard Victoria tried to get Albus talking to her, about anything, nothing seemed to work. It seemed that ever since Grundelwald had tried to kill him, Albus had been like a shell within himself. Sometimes Victoria and Mars would sit with Jenning Ranger and the other Ravenclaws, or Davey Jones and the other Hufflepuffs, depending what class they were in; just to have something to talk about with someone. Albus would merely sit by himself, complete his class-work to perfection and then sit staring at the window. This carried on for months, as the Third Task counted down more than two-thirds of its hundred days and still Albus heard nothing of Thomas Jones.

* * *

It was not that Albus felt ill, or tired, or different. It was not even the daily task of having to deal with his fear for the Everlasting Flame and for Thomas. Albus was having increasingly complicated dreams involving the Everlasting Flame, and he spent several hours a day daydreaming, trying to repeat the dreams of the night in the day. But a night dream is totally different from a daydream, and cannot be replicated. Albus could only access his recurring dream when he drifted off to sleep at two in the morning, after hours of tossing and turning. And each time he had the dream, he got closer to unraveling the mystery of it…

_Albus was standing in a dark room. He could not see anything around him, only the glow of a light in front of him. It was a sheer white, so bright that the eyes watered. Albus looked around him, hoping that the light would shed some light on where he was. Yet, hard as his eyes tried, he could not see the dim shapes around the room. It was as though the brilliant light was _there, _but _was not_there at the same time. As usual Albus found himself _without his wand_ in this room, as though he kept forgetting to bring it here. So he could not bring light to the room. He tried uttering _'Lumos',_ using wand-less magic, but in his dreams he could not achieve what he had done before._

_Albus stepped towards the brilliant white light. He wanted to explore it more. Every time he had the dream, he came up to the light and was nearly blinded by it. In recent dreams he had started feeling things associated with the light. He felt … comfort … and warmth … and hope … and a sense that everything was well with the world. He knew that this was the Everlasting Flame, but where in the world was it?_

_Albus was having the dream for what felt like the hundredth time when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. The brilliant sheen of the flame appeared to be inside a fan-like arrangement of something, but this was not what caught Albus' eye. There was something in the corner of the room … a box … a crate of some sort … it was open … and there were things inside it._

_Albus ran (if it is possible to run in a dream) to the box. He rammed his hand into it, and grabbed whatever his hand could wrap itself around. To his delight he felt something familiar. It was a rock encased in some kind of decorative casing. It had a very distinct shape; a circle with a cross underneath it._

_Albus was holding onto an ankh, like the sapphire one he had taken from the Temple of Ast at the start of the year._

_The Everlasting Flame _was_ in the Temple of Ast! The Orb of Duality had been telling the _truth_ when Thomas had asked it where the Flame was!_

'Albus,' said a voice. 'Wake up, Albus.'

'_No,' Albus murmured. No, now that he had figured out where the Flame was, he wanted to explore more. He had come so far, he needed to know more. How was it hidden in that room?_

'Albus; wake up at once,' said the voice. Albus' eyes shot open and caught sight of Archaeon Dumbledore. His father was sitting on the edge of his bed. Albus had not seen his father for three months. A long time had passed since Grundelwald's attack.

'Has the Task ended?' Albus asked. 'Has Grundelwald got the Everlasting Flame?'

'No, settle down, son,' Archaeon said, putting an arm around Albus. 'You are just in a state of confusion. You are still half-asleep. I have come for another reason. It is half an hour before sunrise. You have half an hour to prepare for a journey.'

'A journey?' said Albus. 'Wherever am I going?'

'The time has come,' Archaeon said, 'for Thomas Jones to receive the help that he was promised for being the leader in the Triwizard Tournament. There are ten days left until the Third Task is over, and Thomas is … is in need of assistance.'

'You are sending me?' Albus exclaimed. 'What good will I be? Surely, as first place in the Tournament thus far, Thomas deserves better help?'

'As I understand it,' Archaeon said; a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips, 'you have been reading every text on Egyptian and other ancient magic that Hogwarts possesses. You also possess abilities beyond most students your age, and a number of other … shall we say, attributes … which Thomas will find useful.'

'Oh, of course,' Albus said, thinking that he had clued on to his father's line of thinking. 'I know where the Everlasting Flame is.'

'Oh, do you now?' Archaeon said. He had a curious smile on his weathered face, indiscernible to Albus, but one which indicated a sense of amusement towards his son's conviction. He patted Albus on the arm and said, 'nevertheless you will be useful to Thomas, and as I said some months ago, your role in this would become clear. Now is the time. Fawkes will be along at sunrise to take you to the Pyramids at Giza. You will find Thomas lost within one of the Pyramids. It is your Task to help him get out, and to help him find his way to where the Everlasting Flame might be. Thereafter, I expect, a lot will happen that none of us could possibly predict.'

'What of Grundelwald?' cried Albus, 'and Admiral Scholtz? What if they attack me?'

'This time, my son,' Archaeon said firmly, 'you will be better protected than ever before. You have no idea how well you are already protected, as it is. Now, I must go, for I have much to do. Fawkes will be along, and you need to be ready. Take whatever you feel will help you.'

Archaeon gave Albus a hug and strode towards the door. He had just about passed through the door frame when he turned and said, 'and Albus?'

'Yes, father?'

'Do not forget your wand.'

Albus was wide awake, more alert than he had been in months. He clambered out of bed and dressed into his robes. He made sure that his sapphire ankh was concealed in his left pocket, and that his willow wand was safely tucked away in his right-hand pocket. He rummaged about in his crate, now returned to having possessions after Lubo had sent robes, texts and whatnot to replace what Grindelwald had destroyed. Albus found little that would be of use, except for a Star Pointer she had bought for him as a consolation present. Albus was just about ready to leave when Mars hopped out of his bed, directly in Albus' path.

'You are not going to Egypt without me,' Mars said. 'I came with you in the summer, and I went to the Gateway of Shadows with you the Christmas before last. I wish to accompany you once more.'

'This is too dangerous,' Albus said.

'It did not sound dangerous to me, from the words your father spoke,' Mars said. 'Come now, I have been the one friend to stand by you these last three months, when you have really been a right prat.'

'That is no way to convince me to let you come,' Albus said, but the hollow sensation in his stomach told him that Mars spoke the truth. He knew that he had drifted away from the Pirates these last few months. After all, sitting in class next to Swarbrick Snape more times than not was hardly fun. But Albus had been so distracted! Nevertheless he felt guilty, and relented. 'Very well, come, but only you. Do not wake up the other boys. I want neither William nor Alabastor endangering us by coming along.'

Albus waited while Mars readied himself, and then the pair made their way down to the Gryffindor common room to await Fawkes. They did not want to spend any longer in the dormitory, in case their movements woke the other boys.

To Albus' dismay, Victoria had made an early morning excursion to the bathroom, best accessed through the common room. She stopped dead when she saw Mars and Albus, dressed and looking ready to go somewhere.

'Where are you going?' she asked.

'Nowhere,' Albus lied, badly.

'Egypt,' said Mars simply.

'I am coming with, then,' Victoria said.

'No,' Albus said, glaring sideways at Mars. 'I will not have you putting yourself in danger. Africa is a vile place of dark magic, and we will be facing dangers like Grundelwald and worse.'

'I have been to Africa,' Victoria said defiantly, 'and I even learned some voodoo magic, lest you forget! Mars, talk sense into him, he has been without sense for so long.'

Albus sensed that Victoria was going to use the same argument on him that Mars had. His shoulders slumped in defeat. There was nothing he could do. After all, Victoria had been remarkably tolerant of his strangeness over the past three months. She, like Mars, deserved some light at the end of that dark tunnel. He could not deny that their excursion to Egypt promised to be a very exciting journey.

'Very well,' Albus said. 'But you had better make haste. Fawkes will be here in a few minutes, and I do not wish to delay.'

Victoria shot past and was back quicker than you could brew a simple potion, dressed and clinging to her wand and a small bag that looked suspiciously like it contained ingredients for voodoo charms.

Fawkes appeared just as the light of dawn reared its head behind the Forbidden Forest through the window. He held out his tail for the three intrepid adventurers to take hold of.

'Are we all ready?' said Albus.

'Yes!' was Mars and Victoria's ecstatic reply.

'Well, here goes,' Albus said.

With a flash of flame Fawkes and his three passengers vanished.

* * *

Author's Note – apart from thanking my reviewers, I have very little to say in my Author's Notes anymore. I am letting my story do the talking. Adios 'til next time. 


	20. Thomas' Tutankhamen Tomb Tale

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on worlds created by JK Rowling

"The art of telling a good story is to create the illusion that the reader is joining the action midway through"

* * *

Chapter 20 – Thomas' Tutankhamen Tomb Tale

Fawkes deposited Albus, Mars and Victoria within sight of the Pyramids of Giza. The giant yellow forms cast triangular shadows on the Egyptian desert in the early morning sunlight. Already a slight breeze was whipping up sand into their faces.

'Stay with us, Fawkes,' Albus said. The phoenix sang a soft melody as it flew a few feet in the air above the three twelve year-olds. Albus took hold of his wand and led the way toward the greatest of the Pyramids, the one he had identified in Thomas' Guide Map three months ago. The trio had to lift the hems of their robes up to cover their faces from the bite of the sand. In turn, the sand whipped painfully against their slender white legs. It was a harsh compromise; sand on the leg was better than sand in the eye.

They were made to feel dreadfully small underneath the giant pyramid. It had been the Pyramid of Tutankhamen, the Pharaoh whose Chief Vizier had borne the name Imhotep. Albus knew this from his readings on Egyptian magic and history. It had been alarming the number of times that Imhotep's name had come up in Albus' extensive research. The dark wizard that had nearly succeeded in being reborn last year had been one of the most influential of all Egyptian wizards, and Albus hardly doubted that he was the greatest dark wizard ever. For this reason, being back in Egypt did not fill Albus with much hope or comfort; especially in the knowledge that the Grundelwald brothers, Admiral Scholtz and Phineas Nigellus would surely be around.

But none of Albus' feared enemies made a sudden attack out of thin air, nor did Imhotep rise from any of the swirling dust spirals. Albus, Mars and Victoria trudged up the side of the great pyramid, making their way to a small but conspicuous black entrance about mid-way up the massive structure.

They arrived at the entrance sweating and panting heavily, for the sun had risen to half of its full height and was baking down in a most un-English fashion. Coming from a brisk Hogwarts winter, none of the three were prepared for the sweltering African heat. All three stepped quickly into the shadows of the entrance, grateful to have escaped the heat.

'Will you escort us to Thomas?' Albus asked of Fawkes. 'We would prefer not to get lost in here.'

Fawkes chirped assent and flew off ahead of them. The trio lit their wands and followed, eyes darting from side to side in search of imminent danger. But as with their climb up the side of the pyramid, there seemed to be nothing obstructing their way. In fact, Albus observed a number of objects that looked like they had formerly been obstacles, but had since been defused. There were barrier stones tossed to the side, skeletons carrying shields and spears lying dormant on the stairwell, dead asps and broken traps. Clearly someone had been through there before them and successfully negotiated all the magical obstacles. Albus started to wonder why Thomas, who must have made it this far in, had failed to get out again.

After walking for what felt like hours, the trio came to a long, low chamber with torches burning in the brackets on the walls on either side. At the end of the chamber there appeared to be the back of a tawny coloured beast. It was looking away from them, into the room beyond the chamber. Fawkes came to a stop, landed on Albus' shoulder and gave a soft chirp as if to urge him forward.

Gulping heavily, for Albus could have sworn that this was a lion up ahead (he knew what lions looked like from the Gryffindor coat of arms), he led the other two forward. When he was within a stride or two of the lion, he gave a soft cough to gain its attention. He could feel the hand holding his wand shaking.

The lion turned its head to look at who had disturbed it. To Albus' surprise the lion had a man's face. He immediately recognized the creature for what it was.

'A sphinx,' Albus murmured; for Mars and Victoria's benefits.

'That is what I am named,' said the sphinx in a gruff voice. 'You have come to join he who has suffered here for three score and a dozen days.'

Albus quickly counted the days and realized that Thomas had been in this chamber for eighty-four days! He must have spent a week negotiating the magical obstacles on the way down to the inner chamber and since then had been trapped inside the pyramid by the sphinx! How far behind Anastacia Volkova and Jannes Grundelwald had Thomas fallen in that time?

'Do you wish to pass?' inquired the sphinx mildly. 'I have no qualms letting you by, but I will not permit you passage back … lest you solve my riddle.'

'Albus,' Victoria said tremulously, 'can we turn back?'

Mars did not voice the same concern, but his pallid look indicated that he, too, was not in favour of joining Thomas if the sixth year had been unable to solve the sphinx' riddle for eighty-four days.

'No, we came here to help him,' Albus said firmly. 'Besides, Fawkes can disapparate us out of this chamber.'

'Alas, bold youngster,' said the sphinx, shaking its proud head, 'even a phoenix falls under my powers of entrapment.'

Albus gritted his teeth. Way back or no way back, he had been sent by his father to help Thomas and he would not be turning back now.

'We go through,' Albus said. 'Please permit us to pass, o sphinx.'

'To your own end,' said the sphinx in a friendly fashion, and stepped aside to let the trio pass. Fawkes hovered in mid-air but did not join them. Albus could understand his phoenix's reluctance. Fawkes could go anywhere on the planet without restraint, but within the spell of a sphinx he would be no more powerful than a bird in a cage.

'Albus!' cried Thomas from within the heart of the chamber. Albus did not have time to take in his surrounds, because the burly sixth year ran up and gave him a tremendous hug. When he stepped back, Albus saw that Thomas had sprouted an eight-four day beard and his sandy blonde hair was a dirty, matted brown.

'Have you truly been here for eighty-four days?' asked Albus breathlessly.

'I have,' Thomas said, 'but do not be as alarmed as I expect you are. These days have been more productive than you might expect. Take a look around!'

Thomas signaled the interior of the chamber with a sweep of his hand. It was a vast and handsome tomb, with three enormous golden sarcophagi in the centre of the room. The walls were decorated with pastel coloured decorations stretching from floor to ceiling and corner to corner of every wall. There were round pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling, and these too were painted with hieroglyphics in the colourful tradition of the Egyptians. More impressively, the floor of the tomb was covered almost entirely with treasures. There were vast chests of gold and jewels, vases of every imaginable size and shape, staffs beset with jewels and much more on which the eye could feast. It was dazzling; almost as spectacular as the golden city of Heliopolis that Archaeon had taken Albus and Aberforth to two summers ago. Albus spotted an area where Thomas had cleared a place for sleeping, and a well-used golden throne on which he must have spent considerable hours sitting and pondering the sphinx's riddle.

'How did you survive this much time without eating?' Victoria asked. She wore a look of intense concern on her pretty face.

'I did not have to survive,' Thomas said, smiling. 'The sphinx has been kind enough to bring me food and water every day. He said it was something to do with the rules of the Triwizard Tournament; no captive in Tutankhamen's tomb was permitted to die of starvation or thirst.'

'So this is Tutankhamen's tomb,' Albus said. 'I thought it must be, with all this gold.'

'Remarkable, isn't it,' Thomas said, grinning as though the treasure were his own.

'Have either Anastacia or Jannes come here?' Albus asked. 'I would have thought, in eighty-four days of the Tournament, that the clues in their Guides should have led them here.'

'Oh, ho ho,' Thomas said, throwing his hands up with mock amusement. 'I came here with Anastacia, but she tricked me into passing the sphinx alone. When I failed to come out again within an hour of hearing the riddle, she left me here, trapped and alone.'

'I thought those Russians looked evil!' Mars cried, slapping a fist into his hand. 'Weren't you interested in her?'

'I was,' Thomas said, shaking his head sadly. 'Apparently winning is of greater importance to her than I imagined. I never once thought she would abandon me to my fate that early in the Task.'

'What of Grundelwald?' Albus asked. 'Surely he has been here?'

'The German of which you speak indeed here did come,' said the sphinx, who had been listening to the students' conversation, 'and I forbade him entry.'

'Why?' asked Albus. 'Surely you cannot choose to permit one Champion entry into the chamber and refuse another?'

'That is the truth,' said the sphinx, 'the rules, however, also state that no death may occur within this chamber during the Tournament. I saw in the eyes of the German the will to murder your companion. I forbade him entry until such a time as your companion deciphers my riddle.'

'So, Thomas, how come you failed to solve the riddle in eighty-four days?' asked Albus, himself wondering how he and his friends were going to escape this tomb.

'I admit I ought to have figured it out by now,' Thomas said, 'but I have never been one for riddles. I rather hoped I'd have the use of the Orb of Duality if I ever encountered a riddle, but alas, we know in the hands of whom that object now lies. I cursed my luck at first to get a riddle so early in the Third Task, but it seems as though it was to my advantage.'

'What do you mean?' asked Albus, completely baffled as to how being trapped in a chamber while his opponents gained valuable time on him was of any benefit to Thomas.

'It is something of a story,' Thomas said. 'Take a seat on one of Tutankhamen's numerous thrones, and I will tell you.' Thomas made himself comfortable on his golden throne, and Albus, Mars and Victoria did the same on some of the other shiny seats located at the feet of the three sarcophagi in the middle of the vast chamber. Thomas began to speak, his blue eyes alight with the adventure he'd had. 'I took a week to negotiate the magical obstacles into this pyramid; for as you will have seen on your way down, they were many. The most difficult to defeat with the Inferi; they are very difficult to kill unless you can kill the wizard responsible for creating them. Seeing as I was unable to kill one of the Triwizard Tournament organizers, I had to settle for using the best spells I could manage. _Avada Kedavra_ did not work, I might add. Nevertheless, I succeeded in making my way into this central chamber, where I have been trapped by the sphinx's riddle since. At first I was devastated; not only because Anastacia had abandoned me, but because I could see myself remaining here until the end of the Tournament and coming last in the competition. It took me a week to overcome my sorrows, but overcome them I did, when Jannes Grundelwald tried to get past the sphinx. I realized that being in here was significant for two reasons: in here, Jannes could not kill me, nor could he steal my Guide. In here, I was safe from my enemies.'

'That is all very well,' Albus said, 'but they will have been getting ever closer to the Everlasting Flame while you are trapped here.'

'You speak too hastily,' Thomas said, smiling genially. 'There is more to this place than meets the eye. After my first week of self-inflicted apathy, I looked around and realized that the paint looked remarkably fresh. I suspected that the hieroglyphics on the walls were not the original ones; in fact, I became convinced that the Triwizard Tournament organizers magically enchanted these hieroglyphics to cover the ancient originals. They had hidden codes within this chamber for me to unravel! What was more exciting was, when I opened my magical Guide to look at the Map, parts of the Map seemed to correspond with the hieroglyphics on the walls. The walls of Tutankhamen's Tomb are part of the Map that leads to the Everlasting Flame!'

Albus could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. He was beginning to realize the significance of Thomas being in here, and Jannes Grundelwald being out there.

'Needless to say,' Thomas went on, 'I still had a problem. I have no knowledge of hieroglyphics and you were not here to help me. So, I started to teach myself the language of the Egyptians.'

'You taught yourself?' Victoria gasped.

'Indeed I did,' Thomas said, grinning almost sheepishly. 'When you have endless days to fill with nothing else to do, you can put your mind to anything. Besides, my old friend the sphinx had a habit of dropping clues every once in a while.'

'I too have a soul,' said the sphinx from the doorway, 'and thus I pitied your companion, for long into the nights did he struggle with the vagaries of this ancient scrawl.'

'So with the sphinx's help, and my own labours,' Thomas continued, 'I began to understand the text on the walls. Once I had learned the language, it took me several days to read and understand everything in this massive chamber, for there are thousands of lines of hieroglyphics.'

'What did they say?' asked Albus, overeager to reach the end of the story.

'I could not repeat it all,' Thomas said, 'but I have remembered the most important things. I learned that the Everlasting Flame lies in the seventh chamber of a Temple somewhere in the south of Egypt …'

'The Temple of Ast, of Isis,' Albus said excitedly. 'I saw it in my dream this morning.'

'You saw what?' Mars and Victoria said at once.

'Oh, it _was_ as the Orb of Duality said!' Thomas cried, almost disappointed but in the same moment delighted that Albus had solved what had clearly been a troubling mystery to him. 'That was the one thing I could not decipher from the walls or my Map, the whereabouts of this Temple. But now we know, so that makes all the difference. Anyway, to continue with my tale, I also learned from my inquiries that there will be seven challenges of increasing difficulty at the doorsteps of each of these chambers, and within each chamber will be something to aid my passage into the next chamber. But, perhaps the most dramatic thing I learned is this …'

'What?' Albus cried. 'Tell us, Thomas!'

'Patience, little chap,' Thomas said, grinning. 'I discovered that the tomb of Tutankhamen is the final step before the Temple … of Ast … in attaining the Everlasting Flame. You see, when I first started this Third Task, I thought that I would have to solve _all_ hundred riddles and clues to reach the Everlasting Flame. But now I have discovered that I chanced upon the second-to-last obstacle on the way to the Flame! For eighty-four days I have been sitting one step away from eternal glory, but unable to escape.'

'How long have you known this?' Albus asked. 'How long have you been sitting here trying to solve the sphinx's riddle so that you can go off and win the Tournament?'

'I only learned it last night,' Thomas said. 'I was actually going to commence putting all my energies into this riddle today, and I never expected to receive help. I suppose you are the help that your father promised I would receive at some unknown time or place.'

'It took you eighty-four days to work that out?' cried Albus.

'Yes,' Thomas said, frowning. 'It takes a long time to learn a new language, and even longer to read the four walls and sixteen pillars of an extremely large chamber!'

'Ah, I see,' Albus said, at last understanding why Thomas had been so long inside the chamber. And what fortune that, by being in here, Thomas was effectively blocking Jannes Grundelwald, Anastacia Volkova, Admiral Scholtz, Phineas Nigellus and all the others from the second-to-last clue on the way to the Everlasting Flame. He came to a realization, and said it before anyone else could speak. 'I hope you all realize that when we solve the sphinx's riddle and leave, then we will be leaving these clues open for discovery by our enemies? As soon as we leave here, they too can come in here and find out about the seven chambers in the Temple of Ast.'

'Yes, of that I am aware,' Thomas said, 'but you are forgetting the small matter of solving the sphinx's riddle. First we have to overcome that obstacle. I hope that one of you three has a sharper brain when it comes to riddles than I.'

'I am good at chess,' Mars volunteered, 'but I doubt that is of any use.'

'It may well be,' Albus said, smiling at his friends, 'but I have a liking for this sort of thing. O sphinx, would you care to tell us three the riddle so that we may solve it and leave this chamber?'

The sphinx gave a small growl of disapproval under its breath, but shuffled into a position of graceful repose and cleared its throat to speak.

'_Not easily traversed was the path you entered by_

_You spiraled down into chambers of death's repose_

_A path outward leads but you are forbidden entry_

_Until solve you riddle on my sharpened tongue'_

There was a still silence after the sphinx had spoken.

'Is that it?' Mars said. He had an incredulous look on his freckled face. He gave up almost immediately, slumping back in his throne and crying, 'we are doomed to stay here until Tournament's end, maybe even longer!'

'Four heads are better than one,' Victoria said, but she did not look confident in the slightest.

'What do you think, Albus?' asked Thomas. 'I have given it plenty of thought in the long nights when I could not fall asleep for thinking of it, but I have come no closer to a solution.'

Albus had had a clever little idea.

'O sphinx, I am acquainted with a great and noble being,' Albus said, 'he who was once called Bucephalus, who rode with men before the ages of empires, and after, he who is man and horse in one. He is truly great, but even he bows before you. Will you grant us passage on account of his words of greeting?'

'No,' said the sphinx, growling loudly this time. 'I do not bow to the will of any creature, and I have outlived even he that rides with men and was once Bucephalus. I outlived him before the ages of man and will outlive him hereafter. Do not play games with me. You have no choice but to solve the riddle.'

'Oh, we truly are doomed,' Victoria said weakly.

'Alas, Albus, I tried that trick myself,' Thomas said. 'The sphinx does not seem to think very highly of Professor Equus.'

'I hope your father comes for us at the end of the Tournament,' Mars said. He held his head in his hands.

'Will everyone stop speaking?' Albus said sharply. 'I need to be alone with my thoughts for a time.'

Albus walked away from the other three, traversing the full length of the vast chamber as he contemplated the words of the sphinx. He was a touch embarrassed at being rejected by the sphinx regarding his acquaintance with Professor Equus. He had, for a moment, believed that referring to the great horse man would earn him favour with the sphinx. But now he had a riddle to solve, and Albus liked riddles.

'_Not easily traversed was the path I entered by,' _Albus said to himself. 'Well that much is obvious to Thomas, I suppose. He had a difficult time entering it, but we did not. I wonder if that makes any difference. _We spiraled down into chambers of death's repose …_ yes; we did spiral down into chambers. The first chamber was the one with the torch brackets, and this is the second chamber. No wait; the first chamber did not have death in it, did it? There was no sarcophagus in there, not that I remember! I wonder if there is a second chamber in here … _A path outward leads but you are forbidden entry until you solve the riddle on my sharpened tongue …_ That is quite logical I suppose. A path outward leads. Hold it; is the sphinx referring to the path we came in by? Or is he referring to another path?'

Albus was running back to the sphinx before he even knew his legs were moving. He arrived, breathless and panting, at the feet of the tawny man-headed lion.

'I have the answer to your riddle,' he cried.

'Take care, little human,' said the sphinx, 'for I permit answers only three. Fail to answer correctly by your third attempt and I will eat you.'

'Albus, be careful!' cried Thomas, coming up to stand beside him. Victoria and Mars joined them, Victoria clutching Albus' hand.

'Are you sure you know the answer?' Victoria said.

'I think I do,' Albus said. He took a moment to calm himself, a few deep breaths allowing him to compose the words to his answer in what he thought the correct manner was. When he was ready, he looked up at the ferocious sphinx and said, 'there is more than one chamber of "death's repose" down here. We are only in the first. There is a path outward that leads to the second chamber and to another exit. I know this because I read in a book about Egyptian pyramids that most Pharaohs liked to have two or three tombs, or escape routes for their royalty. So, the way we came in is not the way out. The way out is through the second chamber.'

Mars, Victoria and Thomas gazed back and forth from the sphinx to Albus, their eyes warm with respect for him and fearful of the sphinx's response. The sphinx took several moments to contemplate Albus's reply.

'That was a long and complex answer to a simple but deceptive riddle,' the sphinx said. 'The longer your answer, the more likely it is that you will state something that is incorrect and thereby render your answer void. However, I have searched your words and discovered nothing but truth. There is a second chamber beyond the first at the very far end, the entrance to which will now be unveiled. You have solved the riddle. You are free to go.'

Thomas and Mars whooped, Victoria screamed with delight and Albus felt himself fall into three simultaneous hugs.

'Give me some air to breathe!' he gasped, pulling away from the other three. 'Now, what are we waiting for? I am already growing tired of being in an underground tomb. Let us get out of here before the sphinx decides to conjure up another riddle.'

The sphinx neither agreed nor disagreed with this statement, so the four made a dash for the far end of the chamber. True to the sphinx's word, there was now a doorway where before there had been nothing but wall. The four hurtled through into another, smaller chamber where yet more treasure and another four sarcophagi lay. Beyond that there was a passage that led sharply upwards and at an angle away from the tombs. It carried on for miles, was lit only by the light of their wands, and was strangely devoid of obstacles.

'I think the sphinx has disabled the magic to let us pass,' Thomas said wisely at one point, 'for surely treasures of such impressive nature would have been stolen by now if they were not protected by powerful magic.'

The four tired travelers finally emerged at the foot of another, smaller pyramid almost a mile away from Tutankhamen's resting place. Thomas had to cover his eyes; such was the brightness that greeted them. He had not seen sunlight for almost three months and was white as a sheet. The other three sank against the base of the pyramid, exhausted by their seemingly endless journey. As they did so, the exit by which they came seemed to sink into the sand and disappeared.

'Oh well,' Albus remarked, 'there goes a treasure I would love to have sampled.'

'There will come a time,' Thomas said, sinking down to his haunches like the others. 'I have another treasure in mind at this time, however … an Everlasting one!'

Albus let out a hearty laugh, the first he'd given in months. The world looked much brighter in the African sun!

* * *

Author's Note – I can now confirm that there are a minimum of three chapters left, maybe four. We are coming to the end of a very long, rewarding adventure for Albus, but much darkness lurks ahead … your loyal Grandson of Dumbledore. 


	21. Six Chambers

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Untimely death is a specter that haunts us all"

Author's Note: this is the most action-packed chapter I think I have written in the entire Albus Dumbledore series thus far. I do hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

* * *

Chapter 21 – Six Chambers

Night had fallen and the Egyptian desert had a cold, grey look to it. The four travelers were now far enough away from the pyramids that they were just shapes on a starry horizon behind them. A majestic panorama of stars, jeweled eyes peering through holes rent in the heavens lay overhead. The first of the travelers stopped in his tracks and the others nearly collided with him.

'If I just had the Orb of Duality!' cried Albus, scratching his head and shaking his Star Pointer. He had been trying to locate the Temple of Ast using the Star Pointer his mother had given him, but with no success. Both he and Thomas had attempted to disapparate to the Temple of Ast, but it seemed to be guarded by anti-disapparation spells. Fawkes would have flown them to the Temple of Ast, but the magical phoenix had conveyed that he too, did not know where the Temple was anymore. Archaeon had obviously protected the place with complex magic that was even beyond the powers of a phoenix.

'Do you even know the astrological location of the Temple?' Thomas said. 'How do you expect to find it with a Star Pointer if you do not know what you are looking for?'

'Well, I used what clues we could derive from your Guide,' Albus said tersely, 'but still the Star Pointer is confused.'

The four travelers peered down at Albus' magical device. It was a circular, flat piece of wood with bronze arrows that rotated of their own accord. It had silver pointers that Albus was able to point in different directions, using the constellations overhead to guide him. The idea was to get the bronze arrows to stop moving and point in one direction; the direction in which one ought to go. But they would not stop spinning.

'I wish I had learned how properly to use this device!' cried Albus. He was almost despairing. They had been walking for twelve hours in a general southerly direction, but it was impossible to know whether that was the right way.

'I could try something,' Victoria volunteered. She had said nothing all evening. 'When I was in East Africa with my parents, I learned of a voodoo magic used in the finding of things.'

'The finding of things?' said Albus, 'not places? Do you think it will work in the finding of the Temple?'

'We could attempt it,' Victoria said.

'Then we shall attempt voodoo,' Thomas declared, 'seeing as all other options seem lost to us.'

Victoria smiled; her teeth lucid in the starlight. She took charge of the three boys, ordering that they sit in a circle around a blue fire that she conjured. Then, removing the contents of her small bag of African magical ornaments, she proceeded to arrange them in a certain fashion. Albus watched closely, curious but all the same skeptical about the voodoo magic. There was something primitive about the use of chicken bones, eagle feathers and ancient human teeth in incantations. A wand was far more civilized, Albus thought.

'Take one another's hands,' said Victoria. Albus felt her soft left hand take his right. He in turn held Thomas' right hand with his left, whilst Mars took Thomas' and Victoria's hands either side of him. Victoria said, 'now, close your eyes, and join in my chant. As you do, focus your thoughts on the place we wish to find. Try to see the Temple of Ast in your mind's eye.'

The four closed their eyes, and Victoria began to chant. It was a guttural, low chant. Were it written it would have looked something like, 'Heya-oohm-hragroohm-yeda-ma-leba-ma-oohm-aba-leba-ma'. Albus had to stifle a laugh, and in response Victoria clenched his hand with hers. Feeling apologetic, he joined in the repetitive chant, his eyes closed.

Strangely, Albus' mind went blank of all other thoughts. All that filled his mind was the chant turning over on his tongue, and a sheer blackness across the inside of his head. He was searching in the darkness, wading in a mire of ebony in search of a place. Where was the Temple of Ast? To Albus' surprise, he realized that Victoria, Mars and Thomas were also there in the darkness, searching. They were all in his mind! Or was he in their minds? He could hear a faint murmur escaping each of their lips … _Temple of Ast. _The murmur became more insistent, replacing the guttural chant. Now all four were chanting 'Temple of Ast, Temple of Ast, Temple of Ast.'

In a moment of intense enlightenment, all four caught sight of a magnificent Temple shimmering in the moonlight. It was built from yellow stone, as so much of Egyptian architecture was, a grand structure composed of pillars supporting platforms supporting pillars supporting roofs. Vines and palm trees grew in enclaves, and water could be heard splashing over an artificial 'fall. Statues of dog-headed men and eagle-headed women seemed to guard the platforms. Overhead, a stream of milky-white stars ran the breadth of the vaulted purple sky.

'Open your eyes,' said Victoria. They all did, and to their utter surprise they were, in fact, standing before the Temple of Ast. Mars and Albus recognized the place at once, having spent the previous summer on one of Archaeon's digs. The water and plants from the vision were gone, and large portions of the Temple were collapsed. In real life it was not nearly as impressive as in their voodoo vision, but that was irrelevant. They had arrived at the Temple of the great Egyptian Goddess Isis!

'Congratulations, Moody,' Thomas said, winning a smile in response from Victoria.

'That was impressive,' Albus admitted, not letting go of Victoria's hand. 'I must say I think more highly of voodoo magic now than I did before.'

'Egyptians weren't the only wizards of old,' Victoria said slyly.

'I know that,' Albus said. Deep down, however, he maintained that they were the best.

'I do not wish to stand about in full sight of our enemies,' Thomas said. 'The quicker we negotiate these seven chambers and take the Everlasting Flame back to Hogwarts, the happier I will be.'

'And we the same,' Albus said. 'I have an idea that may speed the process up somewhat. Mars, do you remember that night in the holidays when I apparated us both into the innermost chamber, the one where the bracket of the Everlasting Flame was empty?'

'Yes, I do,' Mars said. 'Are you suggesting we apparate there and bypass the first six chambers?'

'It is worth an attempt,' Albus said. 'Victoria, take my arm. Thomas, you take Mars' arm and follow me.'

Albus closed his eyes and focused his intentions on arriving in the innermost chamber. But nothing happened; no swirl of light and motion of bodies. His feet were still grounded on the desert sands.

'Why aren't we moving?' Albus wondered out loud.

'I suspect it is the same reason why we were unable to apparate to the Temple,' Thomas said. 'The same reason why Fawkes could not take us here: this place is too well protected by magic. We have no choice but to negotiate the obstacles outside each of the seven chambers.'

Reluctantly Albus followed in Thomas' wake as the sixth year started taking strides up the Temple steps. Victoria and Mars followed apprehensively. Both doubted the sense of accompanying Albus on such a perilous adventure. A Triwizard Task was far beyond the trifles of a Pirate prank.

At the top of the steps they came face to face with a magnificent creature. It had the body of a lion, tawny coated and handsome even in the pale starlight, every muscle of its feline form rippling in the still desert air. Where a lion normally wore its mane, this creature sprouted silvery feathers and the head of an eagle. Most impressive were its wings, emerging from behind its forelegs and sweeping backwards and upwards.

'Oh,' said Victoria softly.

'A Gryffin!' cried Thomas, awed. The four Gryffindors were staring at the creature from whence Godric Gryffindor had taken his name a thousand years before.

The majestic creature gave a shrill, piercing cry and beat its wings so that the four students had to step backwards. Albus noticed that it was guarding the entrance to the Temple of Ast, and presumably, the first of the seven chambers. Thomas tried to approach the great beast, but each time it bounded forward, claws out and beak snapping at him. There was no way past, and Thomas dared not cast a spell at the powerfully magic creature. Albus swallowed hard and stepped forward, his mind fixed on an idea.

'Oh, great Gryffin,' he said, bowing so low that his nose nearly scraped the ground, 'I come from afar and bearing tidings from the most ancient of riders; he who was Bucephalus, rider with men and warriors. He who has outlived empires and will outlive us all is mighty indeed, but you are greater yet. We humbly beseech you to let us pass, in the name of the horse man who bears no name.'

The Gryffin tilted its proud head, contemplating Albus' words. It gave a few shrill chirps before, to Albus' complete surprise, stepping lightly to the side and letting them pass.

The others said nothing until they were safely inside the first chamber, when they congratulated Albus not only on his bravery, but also his brilliance. Albus, however, was too captivated by the contents of the first chamber to notice what they were saying. The vast hall, lit by flames in brackets on the walls, was filled with unimaginable treasures. It was as though the contents of Tutankhamen's Tomb had been multiplied three-fold and brought into this one place. The piles of gold and jewels were so high that they touched the ceiling in places.

Mars made a move as though he wanted to pick up one of the jewels, but Thomas hurried forward and stopped him before his hand could touch anything.

'Do not touch anything,' Thomas said, pulling Mars back. 'In Charms Professor Rolleston has been teaching us how to tell if something is enchanted. I can sense that the treasures here are enchanted such that anyone who touches them will fall into a timeless sleep. It is a trap to keep us from moving on to the second chamber.'

'So this is the second obstacle?' said Albus, 'enchanted treasure? Then let us move on to the second chamber quickly, before the temptation gets too much.'

The four hurried between the piles of gold and jewellery. Albus was correct about temptation. The treasures also seemed to be enchanted with a gravitational pull. Albus thrice felt his hand reach out to grab something, and he had to shake his head vigorously to remind himself that he was not to touch anything. Even Thomas seemed to be struggling to control his willpower. But before any of them could succumb, they had made it through a second door into the second chamber.

This was a smaller room, dimly lit, with a single object on a small dais in the very middle, lit by a stream of pale starlight coming from a small hole in the ceiling. Thomas was the first to approach, his wand out as a precaution. The object turned out to be a chalice filled with red fluid.

'I think it is poison,' Thomas said, 'but the sphinx said that every chamber would contain something to help us, so we had better take it with us.'

Thomas picked up the chalice, doing his best not to spill any of the mysterious liquid within.

'In that case, what did we get from the first chamber?' Mars asked. 'There was nothing in there to help us with our quest, was there?'

'That is a good point,' Albus said, but he was distracted by the sight of the third obstacle, guarding the way into the third chamber. It was a horde of Inferi! The ancient mummies, their white garb falling off their skeletal bodies, carried spears and shields, and started making threatening noises and steps towards them. With the chalice in his hands, Thomas was unable to use his wand, and Albus could not think of any way of jinxing things that were already dead.

'I know how we can use the first chamber!' Mars cried. 'We must lead the Inferi into the first chamber and hope that they touch the treasures.'

'It's a thought worth trying,' Thomas yelled. The Inferi were virtually upon them. The four Gryffindors turned and ran for the first chamber. Immediately their senses were overwhelmed with desire for the treasures, but they were also driven by fear of the pursuing Inferi. Fortunately, dead or not, the Inferi were also vulnerable to the charm of the treasures. They dropped their spears and shields to the floor with a clatter and reached out for the jewels. At the instant that an Inferi touched a treasure, they collapsed to the ground in a dead sleep.

'That was brilliant, Mars!' Albus cried. He saw that his friend's hand was an inch away from a bar of gold. 'Mars; leave it!' Albus grabbed Mars by the arm and pulled him back into the second chamber.

'That was a close call,' Thomas said, 'but well thought, McGonagal. We are now free to proceed into the third chamber, with this chalice of vile red potion. I do hope we are not required to drink it.'

Like the first chamber, the third was a vast and towering room. Massive statues of Isis lined the walls, a woman of immense beauty. Often the statues bore an infant in their arms, an infant with the distinctly painted black eye of Horus, her godly son. Albus glanced at Thomas, to whom he had given the Eye of Horus as a protective device. The locket had in turn been given to him by his father on his birthday. He wondered if it would come in handy again, having already saved Thomas' life from Jannes Grundelwald's _Avada Kedavra._

A second chalice stood on a raised dais in the very centre of the room, just like the previous one. This chalice contained a potent blue liquid.

'I suppose we have no choice but to take it,' Thomas remarked uneasily. 'McGonagal, would you care to carry this one?'

Mars picked up the second chalice. Armed with the two mysterious potions, the Gryffindors marched on to the far end of the third chamber. There was no entrance to a fourth chamber, but no apparent obstacle either, until they were a few feet away from the wall. A ghostly apparition appeared before them. It was a child of no more than five years; a boy with black paint around his eye. It was the ghost of the child Horus.

'Oh intruders four,' the child said in a whispery voice, 'drinketh not of the chalice red but of the chalice blue, if thou wish to further passeth. But drinketh of the chalice red if life eternal thou wisheth to possess, for it is the blood of Isis, our Mother eternal.'

Albus, Mars, Victoria and Thomas all exchanged worried glances. They were concerned by the sheer simplicity of Horus' instructions. If they drank from the blue chalice they would be able to pass through, but not if they drank from the red chalice.

'What is the challenge in that?' Thomas wondered.

'I think I know,' Albus said slowly. 'Our enemies are in pursuit of the Everlasting Flame because they want to obtain the eternal life that it can give them. So the red chalice is offering them that eternal life now, to save them the trouble of going onward.'

'But do you honestly think the red chalice will give them eternal life?' asked Thomas.

'No,' said Albus. 'If it is Isis' blood, then it is thousands of years old. By now it will be a stale poison, and the drinker may well die. I say we listen to Horus and drink the blue potion.'

Thomas set the chalice with Isis' blood in on the floor, and they crowded around Mars with the other cup. They took turns sipping from the strange blue potion. Thomas went first, followed by Albus, Mars and finally Victoria. Each felt a strange feeling spreading across their skin, a sense that they were somehow translucent. Albus could actually see through his hand! He looked down and realized that he had become like a ghost, as had the other three!

'Are we dead?' cried Victoria, trying to clutch her ghostly form in desperation. The chalice fell from her grasp but landed upright on the floor, none of the remaining blue potion spilling.

'Thou art not dead,' said the child-like ghost of Horus. 'Through the wall into the chamber fourth thou now can passeth.'

Albus boldly took the lead and walked straight into the wall. To his delight he came out on the other side, the fourth chamber of the Temple of Ast. As soon as he and his friends had passed through, they returned to normal physical form. Albus checked his pockets and was glad to find that his wand and the sapphire ankh were still there. Apparently they too had been affected by the blue potion's spell.

The fourth chamber was like the second; small and dimly lit. It seemed as though the chambers were of alternating size. The odd numbered chambers were vast, whereas the even numbered chambers were small. In the centre of the fourth chamber was a sarcophagus. It lay on its back, and the lid was ever so slightly off centre.

'Do you think we should look inside?' said Thomas, but he need not have asked, because his confidence was growing the closer they got to the seventh chamber. He marched up to the sarcophagus and used a spell to draw the lid completely off the sarcophagus. Victoria had to gag, covering her mouth and turning away.

'Wicked,' Mars said, peering over the edge at the wrapped up corpse of a long dead person.

'What do you suppose we are supposed to gain from this?' Albus asked.

Thomas did not answer, but began circling the open sarcophagus, using his wand to cast charms on the mummy. Here Albus witnessed why the Triwizard Tournament was better suited to someone in their sixth or seventh year than someone in their second. For all of Albus' brilliance as a young wizard, the charms Thomas was performing were well beyond him. Thomas seemed to be trying to disengage the numerous spells that someone had enchanted the mummy with. Why, Albus could not be sure. But whatever Thomas was doing, he seemed to think it was important.

After several minutes, Thomas seemed satisfied with what he had done. He cast a spell to unbind the wrapping of the mummy. A stale yellow corpse was revealed, its skin drawn tight over its skeleton. There, in its eye socket, were two jewels. One was a ruby, the other was an emerald. Both were beautifully carved, and sparkled in the faint light provided by the starlight streaming from the ceiling.

'I sensed that this mummy was guarded by magical spells,' Thomas said, 'and I realized that these spells had been cast for a reason. By undoing the spells, I was able to find these two jewels. I think we will need them later.'

Albus smiled. Thomas truly would make a worthy winner of the Triwizard Tournament. The resentment he had felt much earlier in the year, when Thomas' name had been selected before his, had evaporated. And even though Professor Rolleston maintained that Albus would have been picked if the teacher had not jinxed the Goblet of Fire to ignore his entry, Albus was certain that Thomas made a better Champion than he would have. Albus knew then that he still had an enormous amount to learn before he could think of himself as a wizard of any repute.

The four Gryffindors cautiously approached the entrance to the fifth chamber. There, sitting patiently on the floor, its tail moving slowly from side to side; was a one-eyed cat. It was of the white variety, and its bad eye was white like Grindelwald's. The good eye was yellow, and regarded them with vague interest.

'I see four where only one may pass,' hissed the tiny cat.

'I am not going forth alone,' Thomas said to the second years. 'You have come this far with me; you deserve to see the inside of the seventh chamber. Besides, I suspect you will be of great use in there, Albus.' Thomas turned to the cat and presented the two jewels. 'Oh great cat, will you accept these offerings in payment for our passage?'

'No,' hissed the cat. 'I am not susceptible to bribery.'

'What of the great Bucephalus?' Thomas said. 'We come bearing tidings from the horse man who rode with warriors and saw empires rise and fall. We bow to you in his name, and ask your passage.'

'No,' the cat hissed once more. 'I care not for the horse man. In this country I am worshipped as a God, and as a God my decrees are final. I see four, and only one may pass.'

Thomas turned to the three second years, his face resigned to the fact that he would go on alone. But Albus had been turning the cat's words over in his head.

'It is a riddle, not an instruction!' said Albus. 'The cat sees four, where only one may pass! I have an idea; come close to me, and let me perform a concealment spell on the three of you. If three of us are hidden, then the cat will see only one, and only one will pass as far as the cat can see!'

Mars and Victoria wore blank faces, not understanding Albus' logic, but Thomas' blue eyes glittered at the prospect of Albus' idea working. Albus raised his wand.

'_Amon-hen,'_ he said, concealing his three companions. Although they vanished from sight, he could sense their presence around him. He turned to the cat, who looked bored. 'Oh cat, may I pass?'

'I see one, where only one may pass,' said the cat. It nimbly leapt to the side. Albus walked through the entrance to the fifth chamber, conscious that Thomas, Mars and Victoria were coming with him.

Only once they were all four in the fifth chamber did Albus perform the _Amon-nu,_ revealing them again.

'You are a genius,' Mars said effusively, 'quite mad, yet quite brilliant.'

They looked around the fifth chamber, a vast, vaulted room with hieroglyphics covering every wall. Thomas wasted no time in bringing out his Guide and revealing his portion of the Map. The vast chamber filled with the golden yellow light of his Map, peppered with hieroglyphics of its own.

'Albus; help me to read the Map and the walls,' Thomas said. 'I think the purpose of this fifth chamber is to give us some clue as to what awaits us, or how we are to find the Everlasting Flame in the seventh chamber.'

Albus did as he was told, walking around the room with his neck craning upwards. His grasp of hieroglyphics was not particularly advanced, but he was able to understand some parts of the seemingly endless array of text overhead. It was Thomas, however, who discovered the clue that he was looking for.

'Here it is,' he cried. 'Here it is!'

Thomas was leaping up and down in delight. Albus and the other two ran over to where he stood against a far wall. A part of the hieroglyphics on the wall and a part of his Map merged to create a single sentence. Albus could decipher part of it, but Thomas read it all out loud, his voice shaking with excitement.

'_Inside the Eye the Flame Eternal Lies!'_ Thomas exclaimed. 'Albus, you concealed the Eye of Horus in my pocket! Please uncover it, and let us find the Everlasting Flame! I am going to win the Tournament!'

'No,' Albus said, shaking his head firmly. 'The Flame is in the seventh chamber, I saw it in my dream this morning. Perhaps this is another riddle, and perhaps the Eye of Horus will reveal it once we are in the seventh chamber. But first we must get to the seventh chamber.'

Thomas stared hard at the wall for several moments, biting on his lower lip to curb his excitement.

'You are most probably correct,' Thomas admitted. 'Come then, I am so close to eternal glory! We go on to the sixth chamber!'

Thomas pocketed his Guide and the Gryffindors marched to the end of the fifth chamber. Again there was no exit, only a wall covered in hieroglyphics. After several moments searching for a way out, Victoria was the one to jump to the obvious conclusion.

'The wall is the obstacle,' Victoria said. 'Thomas, use your magic and try to find a way through.'

Thomas tried casting a range of spells on the wall, but nothing seemed to take effect. Albus pounded his brain for an answer, and even tried reading the hieroglyphics in the hope that they would yield a clue.

'What about the jewels you took from the sarcophagus,' Mars said after a while of silent thought. 'Perhaps they slot into a key or something like that.'

'Genius, McGonagal!' cried Thomas. 'Help me to search for a place to put these jewels.'

The four Gryffindors pored over every part of the wall, looking for indentations that looked like they might be receptive to a stone. It was only when Victoria had the sense to look at her feet that she noticed them.

'Look, they're on the floor,' Victoria said, pointing to two jewel-shaped receptacles on the ground. Both were partially filled with dust and cobwebs. Thomas jinxed the holes clean and placed the two jewels inside. A great rumbling of stone on stone followed and a doorway opened before them.

'I do not know what I would do without you three,' Thomas remarked, hands on hips and grinning broadly.

'As I said before,' Victoria said modestly, 'four heads are better than one.'

Thomas, Albus, Mars and Victoria entered into the sixth and final chamber, in which was sure to be the seventh and final obstacle standing between them and the Chamber of the Everlasting Flame.

Like the second and the fourth chambers before it, the sixth was a small one. It had a low ceiling and torch brackets on every wall. It had an aura about it, like a place where much had happened before of a magical nature. Albus' searched the room for some sign of an object that would help them further their quest, but could only see a doorway at the far end of the chamber, gilded with gold.

And standing in front of the doorway, as tall as the ceiling itself, was an eagle-headed man with the distinct black Eye of Horus. It was Horus himself, the mighty Egyptian God.

'Approach him,' Albus said softly to Thomas. 'I think he is the seventh and final obstacle.'

'How am I to get past an Egyptian God?' Thomas asked, but did not dispute the fact that he had to approach Horus. He walked slowly across the chamber floor, the other three walking alongside him but a pace behind his stride. This was Thomas' Task to complete.

Albus kept his eyes fixed on Horus as they walked across the chamber. He wore the handsome white tunic of the ancient Egyptian, lined with golden decorations at the edges. He wore sandals on his feet, and golden bangles on his wrists. He looked like a Pharaoh, with the exception that his head was that of an eagle, and his eye had that distinctive black paint around it. One stripe of paint curled away from his eye, two sharp lines curved down his cheek, one ending in a spiraled ball, and his eyebrow was also painted. It looked precisely like the Eye of Horus locket currently in Thomas' possession.

The four Gryffindors were ten feet away from the Egyptian God and the golden entrance to the seventh chamber when they heardthe sound of feetbehind them.

Albus turned by instinct. The moment that followed lasted only a few seconds, but felt like hours to Albus. Over his shoulder he caught sight of Jannes Grundelwald, his brother Grindelwald, Phineas Nigellus and Admiral Scholtz. All four had come through the open entrance in the wall, their wands out. Albus barely had time to utter a sound when he heard all four raise their wands and cry, _'Avada Kedavra!'_

Four streams of green light arced across the room towards them. In that slow, painful moment, Albus saw Jannes Grundelwald's curse slam straight into Victoria's chest. Victoria's unprotected form fell to the ground in the same moment that Phineas' curse hit Mars, Admiral Scholtz's curse hit Thomas and Grindelwald's curse came at Albus, only to slide away as if deflected by an invisible shield. Albus was the only one who did not drop to ground. Thomas and Mars looked up at the ceiling, apparently dead, but Albus knew that this was the effect of their protective devices. Yet he remained standing, and able to use his wand. What extra protection did he have?

There was no time for thinking, however. Almost as an instinctive reaction, Albus cried, '_Accio _Eye of Horus!'

The concealed object flew from Thomas' pocket into Albus hand, even though he could not see it or feel it. He turned at once to the Egyptian God. Somehow, with the Eye of Horus in his hand, he believed he had the power to command the great eagle-headed man.

'_Avada Kedavra!'_ cried an insistent Grindelwald from the far end of the room. Albus expected death to be upon him, but for the second time he felt as though a shield had flicked the spell away from him. Three times had Albus seen off an _Avada Kedavra, _and he had not actually survived any of them! Something was preventing the spell from hitting his body, something other than the sapphire ankh that was only able to protect him once!

Albus had no time to waste.

'O Horus, please, I beseech you, protect me from these people!' he cried.

The Egyptian God suddenly bounded forward at a surprising speed. Albus turned to see the God make straight for the four attackers. In a move that was unsurprising, Phineas Nigellus and Admiral Scholtz made a bolt for it, disappearing back through the exit. Jannes Grundelwald stepped forward to stand in front of his little brother. The scab-faced, white-eyed boy looked assured behind his brother's wide-shouldered stance, but Albus knew that Grundelwald could be no match for Horus.

'_Avada Kedavra!'_ cried Grundelwald, but the spell had no effect. Horus was a God. The eagle-head opened its savage beak and attacked, biting down on Grundelwald's neck. Grindelwald's white eyes went wide and Albus knew what had happened. Blood gushed out from the God's bite, showering his feathered neck. Grundelwald's knees buckled and his face went white. Death was upon him.

Grindelwald paused long enough to give Albus a look of intense hatred, one that shook Albus to his very core, before fleeing through the open doorway in the wall before Horus could kill him as well.

Horus released Jannes Grundelwald's neck, and the dark wizard that had killed Victoria dropped to the floor, dead. Albus was at once relieved but in a fraction of an instant later his heart was on the floor again when reality hit home. He hurried to Victoria's side.

'Victoria!' he cried, grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to shake her awake, 'Victoria, no! Fawkes could not have meant you! The Orb must have been lying!'

Albus was recalling two predictions made earlier in the year. The first had been from Fawkes, telling him that Professor Cassandra Trelawney, the celebrated Seer, had foreseen that _someone significant_ would die that year. The second had been by the Orb of Duality. When Albus had asked about his and Victoria's future, it had said two things: _boundless the love shall be _and _death shall part. _It could not be true.

Albus slumped forward over Victoria, sobbing into her neck. It could not be. How could she have died? It was his fault, he realized! He should never have let her accompany them to Egypt! She had died because of him!

'Albus; get up!' cried Thomas. Albus felt Thomas' hand grab him by the shoulder. 'There is no time to grieve. You must get up! We have to get into the seventh chamber before they come back!'

Thomas pulled Albus away from Victoria. Tears streamed down his face and he could barely focus on the forms of Mars and Thomas, both of whom had recovered thanks to the protection of the devices on their persons. Mars had an emerald ankh, and Thomas had been carrying the Eye of Horus.

'Albus; give me back the Eye of Horus, or else I am without protection,' Thomas said. Still sobbing, and barely able to stand for grief, Albus returned the locket to Thomas. Mars had to support his weight, while Thomas approached the Egyptian God, who was wiping its feathers clean of Grundelwald's blood.

'O great Egyptian God,' Thomas said, 'I come bearing the Eye of Horus. I beg you grant us entry to the seventh chamber.'

'Your wish is granted, o bearer of the Eye,' said Horus. The golden doors to the seventh chamber creaked open.

'I cannot leave Victoria's body!' Albus screamed. 'I cannot leave her!'

'O Horus,' Thomas said swiftly, 'do nothing but guard the body of this girl!'

'Your wish is granted, o bearer of the Eye,' said Horus. The Egyptian God came to stand over Victoria's body, looking like he would tear out the throat of anyone who ventured near her.

'Albus, her body is safe with Horus,' Thomas said desperately. 'Come on, we have to go into the seventh chamber now.'

Thomas and Mars grabbed Albus by the arms and dragged him, wailing and yelling, into the Chamber of the Everlasting Flame.

* * *

Author's Note: thus ends the longest and most action-filled chapter of the series thus far. Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame is now longer by word-count than Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather was, and it is yet unfinished. I think the climactic chapter may have to wait until next weekend, because I am hoping for maximum exposure by publishing it on the weekend when more people tend to read my story. So you will have to bite your nails for a week for the conclusive events in this story. There are two chapters left. I hope nobody gets too distraught by the deaths of two major characters … your loyal Grandson of Dumbledore. 


	22. The Chamber of the Everlasting Flame

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Great is the power of suggestion"

* * *

Chapter 22 – The Chamber of the Everlasting Flame

Albus could barely see through the haze of tears in his eyes. Mars and Thomas dragged him into the centre of the seventh chamber, the room that Albus and Mars had been caught exploring on a dark night at the very start of the year. The small chamber, walls and pillars painted with hieroglyphics, had at its centre the fan-like metal bracket with the dark hole in the middle, where the Everlasting Flame should have been. But as it had been at the start of the year, it was extinguished.

'What did that clue say again?' Thomas asked.

'Something about "within the Eye lies the Flame Everlasting",' Mars replied. Thomas looked at the Eye of Horus locket in his hands but could see no sign of the Flame. He tried casting spells on it, but none had any effect.

'Albus, I need your brains,' Thomas said. 'Maybe you can figure out how the Flame is hidden inside this locket.'

'I do not wish to think,' Albus mumbled. He was staring at the floor, feeling as though his soul had been voided from his body. All he could think of was Victoria's body lying in the previous chamber, underneath the protective stance of the Egyptian God, Horus.

'Albus, you have to,' Mars insisted. Albus' green-eyed friend grabbed him by the shoulders, searching his eyes. Mars said, 'we do not have time to mourn Victoria! She was my friend, too, but Admiral Scholtz could be upon us at any moment! In here we would make easy pickings for the Germans. We must help Thomas obtain the Everlasting Flame and then escape from this place.'

Albus was steeled to act, but only by the thought that Grindelwald could get his scabby little hands on the Everlasting Flame. With Jannes Grundelwald dead he needed someone else to blame for Victoria's death, and a swell of hatred filled him against the white-eyed ten year-old.

'Give me the Eye,' Albus said. He took the locket from Thomas with one hand, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his other arm. He approached the fan of metal surrounding the rightful home of the Everlasting Flame, still sniffing loudly. He said, 'In my dream the Everlasting Flame was here. I could feel its warmth and see its light. But it did not light up the walls. It was as though it was here and was not here all at the same time. I am certain that it is here, but how to find it, I cannot know!'

'Perhaps it is concealed,' Thomas suggested. 'I do not know how to cast the _Amon-nu_ spell, so if you could try it, then perhaps it will work.'

'_Amon-nu,'_ Albus chanted, pointing his wand at the dark orifice within the panels of metal. Nothing happened.

'Someone is coming!' cried Mars. He had heard a ruckus sounding through the open door of the chamber. Almost by instinct, Thomas and Albus ran back to the golden doors to have a look. Thomas grabbed the Eye of Horus back to protect himself. To their astonishment, a ferocious wand-waving battle was occurring, and it was moving steadily along the fifth chamber and entering the sixth. Albus caught the swirl of Archaeon's luminescent blue robes as he locked in battle with Phineas Nigellus. The crimson attire of Professor Rolleston could be seen, dueling fiercely with Admiral Scholtz, who, despite dressing like a muggle general, actually could handle a wand quite capably. But even more surprising was the sight of Dr Vladimir Strovsky in battle with Professor Prewett and Anastacia Volkova dueling with Professor Januar Solstice in his white robe. Albus could have sworn he saw Professor Solstice holding a long, thin staff in his left hand. There were also a number of Black Forest School of Magical Arts students and other assorted wizards and witches involved in the battle. Given their number, it was fair to assume that Archaeon had a number of Ministry wizards on his side; otherwise the good would have been entirely overwhelmed. In fact, Albus did catch sight of Minister for Magic Lionel Wilberforce giving some hapless dark wizard a right working over. Albus was not much appeased, but admitted to himself that it was good to see that the Minister had clued on at last to the nature of the Germans.

Jets of green, red, blue and purple light were flashing all over the place. A few spells shot in the direction of Victoria's body, but the Egyptian God Horus flicked them away as though they were mere paper darts. Of the three Gryffindors; only Thomas seemed truly concerned by the way that the battle was moving in their direction.

'I think we should close the golden doors,' Thomas said.

'I do not think it would make a difference,' Albus said mutely, 'seeing as Horus is no longer guarding them. Soon we will either die or the enemy will be defeated. We are mere spectators at this time.'

Professor Solstice appeared before them, breathing heavily. Anastacia's stunned body lay slumped against a wall. Albus looked at his left hand and saw that he was carrying a staff. It was of two snakes inter-twined, and it had at its head a red ruby. It was Imhotep's Staff!

Albus did not have time to question the Professor for bringing such a thing with him, because Professor Solstice pushed the three of them back into the seventh chamber.

'Get behind the doors,' Professor Solstice cried. 'You are in danger of being hit by a spell otherwise! I have to protect you while the others duel the enemy.'

Professor Solstice cast a spell on the golden doors that swung them shut and locked them from the inside. The muffled sound of yelling, crashing and fighting could still be heard through the doors. Professor Solstice turned his dark face upon the three Gryffindors. His eyes were starkly white against his skin.

'What is going on?' Thomas asked. 'Why is the Ministry dueling with the Germans and the Russians while the Tournament is still on? Nobody has obtained the Everlasting Flame yet, I hope?'

'No, the Flame is still at large,' Professor Solstice said, flashing an ivory grin. 'The moment the Germans and Phineas Nigellus used the _Avada Kedavra,_ Archaeon alerted the Ministry. The Russians took this to mean that someone had found the Everlasting Flame and joined in, thinking that they could emerge with the Flame if they were able to defeat both the Ministry and the Germans.'

'That is obscure logic,' Thomas said.

'Indeed it is,' Professor Solstice said, nodding, 'but such is the way of people when it comes to power. The desire to possess the Everlasting Flame robs many people of logic, but not me.'

Albus, Mars and Thomas took a few seconds to digest the unusual nature of Professor Solstice's words.

'I beg your pardon, sir?' Thomas said. 'Did you say you were not robbed of logic by the desire to possess the Flame? You don't mean that, do you?'

'Actually, that is precisely what I mean,' Professor Solstice said. 'While everyone else uses brute magical force to try and overwhelm one another, I have used cunning and subtlety to get into this inner chamber unnoticed, one step away from claiming the Everlasting Flame for myself and my master.'

Before any of the three Gryffindors had a chance to voice their astonishment, Professor Solstice cast a spell on Imhotep's staff, just as he had done in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class at the start of the year. A black form appeared on the ground, molten, moving and alive. It shimmered and then rose from the ground, taking shape as it did so. Albus' throat dried up. He was about to come face to face with the Dark Lord Imhotep for the second time. Professor Solstice's reasons for not simply destroying the staff that Archaeon must have placed in his possess were now horribly clear: he had always intended to unleash the half-spirit within.

'When I have the Everlasting Flame in my hands,' Professor Solstice cried out triumphantly, 'my master will be able to sample its power and his life will go on forever!'

'But you do not have the Everlasting Flame!' cried Albus. 'Only I know where it is!'

'Ah, but you do not know how to reveal it,' Professor Solstice said, a wicked grin spreading across his once handsome face. It was now twisted by the greed that had poisoned his soul. 'As I said before, while others use magical force to try and obtain the Flame, I have used subtlety. Your father entrusted me and me alone with the secret of how he was hiding the Everlasting Flame for the Triwizard Tournament, such was his trust in me. But he could never have known my secret allegiance to my master!'

'What have you to gain from supporting Imhotep?' Albus demanded, a warm rage spreading across his face. 'He murdered Professor Fudge last year and turned him into an Inferi. What makes you think you will be any different?'

Professor Solstice gave a deep, throaty laugh. Albus was partly distracted by the dark, amorphous mass forming beside him. It was now the height of a human, but only vaguely resembled one. Imhotep's shadow was taking a long time to generate into a physical being.

'I will be different because I was loyal,' Professor Solstice spat. 'My motivation is not power or life everlasting … it is to be the servant of my master for all time!'

It sounded absurd to Albus, particularly coming from a teacher who had been so placid and intelligent all year. There was something untoward about Professor Solstice's behaviour. But Albus had no time to analyze the situation. Imhotep's second re-birth was fast becoming a reality.

'Thomas, the Eye of Horus!' Albus cried.

'_Expelliarmus,'_ Professor Solstice said, before Thomas could hand the locket to Albus. It clattered against the wall and lay still, as did Thomas' wand. Professor Solstice repeated the spells on Albus and Mars, leaving all three unarmed. He advanced on Albus, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over the Everlasting Flame's bracket. He said, 'the Everlasting Flame is in your head, and has been all year. You need only remove the concealing spell from within your mind and it will appear in its rightful place. If you do not, I will kill your friends.'

The truth washed over Albus' mind like water over a dry river-bed. Everything made sense at last; the strange way that _Avada Kedavra _spells had been deflected off him like an invisible shield, the dreams he had been having all year … Archaeon Dumbledore had hidden the Everlasting Flame inside his mind's eye! No wonder his father had been so certain that nobody could steal it! But the real revelation was the one going on his thought processes at that very moment. With the Everlasting Flame protecting him, he was invulnerable to anything that either Professor Solstice or Imhotep could do to him. It was his two friends that were in mortal danger.

'_Accio_ wand!' cried Albus, pulling away from Professor Solstice's grasp. His wand flew into his hand by wand-less magic. '_Impedimenta!'_ he cried. Professor Solstice was successfully stunned, falling backwards and hitting his head against the wall. He did not get up again. '_Accio _Eye of Horus!' cried Albus. With his wand in his hand, the spell was much more effect. The locket flew into his hands so fiercely that it stung.

Imhotep had just about come to life again. His skeleton was visible, and flesh was filling it up from the insides. Albus could see his eyes emerge from their sockets. For the briefest of moments Imhotep caught sight of the boy who had thwarted him a year earlier. Imhotep raised a skeletal hand to perform a killing spell, but Albus was supremely unconcerned.

'O Horus, great Egyptian God!' yelled Albus, holding the locket up. 'Destroy Imhotep for all time!'

The hawk-headed God burst through the golden doors, revealing the battle ongoing in the sixth chamber. Albus would have sworn that he saw fear in the eyes of Imhotep as they turned to face Horus. The Egyptian God raised his arms and sent jets of golden light firing from his hands into the skeletal chest of the Dark Lord. Imhotep gave a ghastly scream that shook the foundations of the Temple of Ast, and evaporated in a cloud of dust. His staff fizzled into the sand, leaving a line of grey ash where it lay.

Horus approached Albus, a look of intense satisfaction in his gleaming eagle eyes.

'Great little warrior,' Horus said in a soft voice, 'long may you serve the ways of the righteous.' Without so much as asking, the Egyptian God took the Eye of Horus locket from out of Albus' hand and with it, vanished in a cloud of grey mist.

Albus felt strangely alone in that brief moment, as though the light of the world had temporarily left it.

'Albus, the Everlasting Flame!' cried Thomas, pulling the golden doors shut again so that the battle outside was temporarily barred from spilling over into the seventh chamber. 'Albus, I want to win the Tournament.'

Albus felt tired and weak from the exertions of the day. It was as though the life was sapped from him. He could not have cared less if Phineas Nigellus came and took the Everlasting Flame out of his mind's eye, or if Imhotep had come back to life a third time. He just wanted to be alone and cry his eyes out over what had transpired.

'It is yours to take,' Albus said. 'You can perform the _Amon-nu,_ it would be wrong for me to simply hand it over to you.'

'I do not know how to perform that spell,' Thomas protested.

'Imagine the Everlasting Flame in your hands, in your mind's eye,' Albus said softly, 'and perform the _Amon-nu_ on my mind. Jannes Grundelwald could perform the _Amon-nu_, I am sure you can too.'

Albus slumped down against the wall and Mars came over to sit beside him, while Thomas concentrated on seeing the Everlasting Flame in his hand. When he was ready, he turned his wand on Albus and said, _'Amon-nu.'_

Mars let out a faint gasp. Albus felt something intensely powerful leaving him. If he had been sapped of energy before, he now felt positively empty of everything that had ever been in him. Standing in the middle of the seventh chamber, a look of glowing victory upon his face, was Thomas Jones, victor of the Triwizard Tournament. In his right hand was a silver torch, and issuing from its end was a flame of the most intense white. It was so dazzling that all three had to shield their eyes from it. Every corner of the Chamber of the Everlasting Flame glowed like gold. The chest full of ankhs in the corner, from where Albus and Mars had taken theirs at the start of the year, sparkled like a starry sky.

'I won,' Thomas said ever so softly. 'I won the Tournament.'

The golden doors burst open and Albus half expected Phineas Nigellus to walk in and steal the Everlasting Flame at Thomas' moment of glory. Instead, Minister for Magic Lionel Wilberforce walked in, followed by a party of Ministry wizards bearing scars and bruises, and a haggard looking Professor Prewett. Albus looked about for Archaeon but could not see him, nor could he see Professor Rolleston.

'We have our victor!' Minister Wilberforce said happily, seemingly forgetting the massive battle that had just occurred. 'I hereby declare Thomas Jones the winner of the Triwizard Tournament, and award you with your prize-money of …'

'Excuse me a moment, Minister,' Professor Prewett said, stepping forward with a look of disdain on her face, 'but aren't you foregoing decorum? Is Thomas Jones not worthy of an official ceremony back at Hogwarts, in the presence of an audience?'

Minister Wilberforce gave a few perfunctory coughs and grunts.

'In the … er, circumstances, Athene,' Minister Wilberforce said, 'I think we must forego this pleasure. It would … not look good to have a victory ceremony without our German or Russian guests; and seeing as they will not be joining us …'

'This is outrageous,' Professor Prewett cried, her monocle nearly popping out of its place on her eye. 'Is it Jones' fault that the Germans and Russians chose to turn this Tournament into a farce?'

'Look, Athene,' Minister Wilberforce said, trying to be placating but looking to Albus like a bumbling idiot, 'you are welcome to put on a celebration at Hogwarts in honour of your Champion. But in the light of this disaster of international relations, it is simply inappropriate for the Ministry to have any further involvement in this Tournament. I am going to have enough on my plate, what with Dumbledore sending half of our German and Russian guests to Azkaban and a few of them dying in the process, not to mention Phineas … I mean, the disgrace!'

The Minister ignored Professor Prewett's further protests and turned back to Thomas, who was still staring at the Everlasting Flame with unbridled wonder.

'Thomas Jones,' the Minister said, 'I hereby award you a hundred galleons as reward for winning the Triwizard Tournament. Congratulations.'

The Minister dumped a heavy bag of galleons in one of Thomas' pockets, shook his free hand and then turned to leave the Chamber, his entourage in tow. Professor Prewett stared after him, muttering darkly. By now Albus was quite concerned by the non-appearance of Archaeon. Finding the energy to get to his feet, he ran to the door to look inside the sixth chamber. It was disordered chaos. Great chunks of rock had been taken from the walls by spells. Several dead bodies lay about, including that of Phineas Nigellus, who stared blankly at Albus through those once dark, hateful eyes. In the middle of the room, Professor Rolleston and the Ministry officials were rounding up Admiral Scholtz, Dr Strovsky and a number of their students, using body-binding spells and anti-disapparation jinxes to keep them from escaping. But where was Archaeon Dumbledore?

Then Albus saw him. Lying prostrate on the floor, his blue robes blood-stained, was Archaeon Dumbledore. He was not moving.

For the briefest of seconds Albus was unable to move, to breathe, or to do anything. But then he was running at full tilt towards his father, screaming his lungs off.

'Father, no!' he cried, 'not you too!'

Albus collapsed on his knees beside his father's body and grabbed Archaeon's face with his hands. To his utmost relief, Archaeon's crystal blue eyes looked up at him, and his lips formed words.

'My son,' Archaeon murmured. 'You are alive.'

'No, you are alive,' Albus insisted, the tears coming in happy streams now. 'I thought you were gone! I thought you were dead!'

'Alas, my time has not yet come,' Archaeon said. 'I was overwhelmed when Phineas Nigellus and five of his cronies cornered me. I had earlier suffered a blow to the head from the Gryffin guarding the way in when it was attacked by the Russians. Enraged; it lashed out and, seeing as I had just apparated to the foot of the steps, it turned on me, thinking that I had some part in it. I survived, but taking on six dark wizards was beyond me. I had subjugated four of them when one hit me with a stunning spell and my shield failed to materialize. I was unarmed, and Phineas Nigellus started to perform the killing spell. To my great fortune, Ryan saved my life by killing him and stunning my sixth attacker.'

Albus looked up and across the room at Professor Rolleston, the chubby man with the half-moon glasses and kind disposition. In that moment Albus saw a new hero in his eyes. Professor Rolleston had saved his father's life.

'What of you, my son?' Archaeon asked. 'You are unharmed?'

'Yes, I am unharmed,' Albus said, 'but Professor Solstice tried to take the Everlasting Flame from me and to bring Imhotep back to life with that staff. I managed to stun him and then I got Horus to kill Imhotep.'

'Januar!' cried Archaeon. 'That is simply inconceivable!'

'Yes, I thought so too,' Albus said somberly. 'Perhaps he was enchanted by Imhotep. You could use Veritaserum on him.'

'Perhaps,' Archaeon said with a weary smile. 'It certainly does not sound like Januar to do that. But once again, my son, you have done the world a favour … and this time it seems; you have disposed of Imhotep once and for all.'

'Horus did it,' Albus said modestly. 'He also killed Jannes Grundelwald, but …'

'He killed the German Champion?' said Archaeon, his eyes wide. 'The Egyptian God was not permitted to kill any Triwizard Champion; it was in the rules of the Tournament.'

'I told him to do it,' Albus said, prompting a gasp from Archaeon. 'Well, no, not precisely. I never told Horus to kill him, but I told him to protect us from our attackers after they used _Avada Kedavra _on us.'

'Well you are not to blame then,' Archaeon said. 'I am not too pleased by Horus' actions, but one could never say that Grundelwald did not have it coming … why, what is the matter, son?'

Albus had burst into tears, because the one thing on his lips that he could not bring himself to say was what had happened to Victoria. When Archaeon sat up and put an arm around him, Albus spilled it all in a great sob into his father's beard.

'I told Horus to attack them because,' Albus began, 'because … Mars and Thomas had protection and so did I, but Victoria didn't! She's dead, father!'

'Victoria?' Archaeon said, allowing Albus to pull back. 'Not the daughter of Hortensius and Mary Moody?'

'Yes, Victoria,' Albus sobbed. 'She did not have any protection!'

'What in the name of Merlin was she doing here …' Archaeon began, but when he saw the immense look of self-reproach on Albus' face, he said no further. Archaeon could read the very surface of Albus' mind and tell that Albus felt incredibly guilty that he had let Victoria come to Egypt with him and Mars, unprotected.

'If I had only known that the Everlasting Flame was protecting me as well,' Albus said, 'then I could have given her the sapphire ankh! It is my fault she is dead!'

'No, it is not your fault,' Archaeon said, pulling Albus into another hug. 'It is more my fault than yours, for I failed to provide you with enough information. I was so satisfied that your capabilities would see you through, and so confident that you were protected, I thought no further. It is a father's weakness, that he only protects the one dearest to him. Alas, I also had my responsibility as organizer of the Tournament to think of … with you being so close to Thomas Jones, I could not tell you too much!'

Albus did not say anything, but he understood. As much as he hurt for Victoria, hurt for him, Albus could not bring himself to point blame at his father, lying there on the floor of an Egyptian temple, bleeding and injured in the pursuit of justice for their enemies. Victoria's death was the fault of Jannes Grundelwald, the fault of Grindelwald also, who had twice tried to kill Albus.

'Ah, I see Thomas has the Everlasting Flame,' Archaeon said. Thomas had emerged from the seventh chamber with Professor Prewett, still glowing with success. He held the brilliant white flame aloft like a trophy, although he had yet to lift the Triwizard Cup itself. Archaeon shifted as though he wanted to get up. Albus helped him to his feet, but thereafter clung to Archaeon's blue robes, feeling morbidly sad. Archaeon approached Professor Prewett.

'Athene, I take it you have heard of the loss of one of your students,' Archaeon said. Professor Prewett nodded, stifling a sob. Her face was also streaked with tears. Mars or Thomas must have informed her of Victoria's death. Archaeon went on, 'I think you ought to take Thomas and Mars back to Hogwarts with the Everlasting Flame. Have Ryan take care of Januar, I will have to question him when I get back. I must take my son home, for he is highly traumatized by this disaster, and I will deliver Victoria's body to her parents. I know Hortensius well, having traveled to Africa with him before.'

Professor Prewett seemed to agree, and shuffled off with Thomas and Mars in pursuit. Mars gave Albus a sad look, but he hardly noticed. His eyes were fixed on Victoria's body, which Archaeon was wrapping up in a cloth he had conjured out of thin air. When that was done, Archaeon tenderly lifted her body into his arms, even though he appeared to be in a great deal of pain. Albus and Archaeon were the last two living people in the sixth chamber, for only bodies remained.

'Come Albus,' Archaeon said heavily, 'it is time Hortensius and Mary learned of their daughter's fate. We must go back to Britain.'

Archaeon and Albus Dumbledore walked slowly through the six chambers of the Temple of Ast, Victoria's body in Archaeon's arms and Albus holding on to his blue robe, tears pouring down his face.

* * *

Author's Note – once more, thank you for reading and reviewing. We are now a chapter away from the end of "Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame". I hope you enjoyed flying with the imagination of the Grandson of Dumbledore, and I also hope you found my perspective on Albus' upbringing believable. I constantly ask myself questions like: is it believable for a second year to be doing wand-less magic? Would the death of Albus' girlfriend at twelve be cause enough for him to be a lonely man for much of the rest of his life? Are the events in this story the foundation for Albus and Grindelwald's future rivalry and war? I hope you have enjoyed every step of the journey that we have taken together. I certainly have! There is just one more chapter to go … your loyal Grandson of Dumbledore. 


	23. Archaeon's Promise

Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this novel was a work of fan fiction based upon the worlds created by JK Rowling. I own none of the canonical characters or places, but have applied my own imagination to Ms Rowling's world.

"A life cut short is a tragedy; but the greater tragedy still is for those left behind to not live."

* * *

Chapter 23 – Archaeon's Promise

Archaeon and Albus waited several moments at the front door of the Moody mansion after Archaeon had pounded on the door. When at last it was opened, it was by the Moody's house elf. The tiny little thing gave a squeak of fright and hurried off to find its masters. When Mrs. Moody appeared at the end of the hallway, she let out a cry of intense dismay. For why else would Archaeon Dumbledore be standing at her doorstep with the small figure of a body wrapped in a cloak in his arms, than to be bringing doom upon her household?

'Tell me it isn't true!' Mrs. Moody shrieked; hurrying forward and peeling open the cloak to reveal Victoria's pale, freckled face. She wailed, 'no, my child, my dear, sweet Victoria, no! It cannot be thus!'

Albus wanted to sink into the floor like a ghost. His cheeks burned with the intense shame of someone who blamed himself for inflicting this loss upon the Moodys. Mrs. Moody's shrieks brought Hortensius from his study. Victoria had inherited her sandy coloured hair from her father, who had great curly locks of it hanging on his shoulders. When he saw his daughter's body, he took it from Archaeon and held it tenderly in his own arms.

'My daughter!' cried Mr. Moody. 'Flesh of my flesh, oh! I am aggrieved beyond repair!'

Several more painful moments followed before the Moodys composed themselves enough to invite Archaeon and Albus into their living room. There, they lay Victoria down upon one of the couches with tenderness. Then they wanted an explanation from Archaeon.

'I can see it was the _Avada Kedavra!'_ cried Mr. Moody, 'but who could do this to my child? Who deserves to feel the fury of my vengeful wrath?'

Albus cowered in a small chair, half expecting Archaeon to point at him and for Mr. Moody to jinx him into a thousand pieces. But Archaeon proceeded to describe the ending of the Triwizard Tournament, revealing that it had been the German Champion who had killed Victoria, only to be killed himself by an Egyptian God. The truth was no easier to bear for the Moodys. Mr. Moody retreated into an immediate and congestive silence, while Mrs. Moody sobbed away against his chest. After several more moments of discomfort, Archaeon asked if they could kindly be excused on account of the personal injuries he had sustained. When neither of the Moodys gave an audible response, he rose to his feet and departed, Albus almost standing on his heels to escape the awful, death-filled place.

'I think, my boy,' Archaeon said, as they walked down the stony path leading to the Moody's front gate, 'that you are in need of solitude and rest. I will permit you a night at home before you must face your inevitable return to Hogwarts.'

Albus nodded but said nothing. They disapparated; back to the Dumbledore home; where Archaeon forbade Lubo from spending too much time fawning over him. Once more, Archaeon cast a sleeping spell upon him, and Albus fell into a long and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Returning to Hogwarts was one of the most difficult things Albus had ever had to do in his life. The school was fresh with gossip over the dramatic ending to the Third Task, and half wanted to celebrate the triumph of their Champion Thomas Jones, and half wanted to mourn the loss of one of their own. When other students walked by Albus in corridors he got the sense that a part of them wished to grin, slap him on the back and congratulate him for helping Thomas secure victory; and the other part of them wanted to offer their condolences. Instead, most students did nothing, treading past Albus as though he were a particularly volatile ghost who might bite them if they talked to him.

Then there was Noxious Black. Phineas' repulsive son confronted Albus in the middle of the corridor between lessons on his first day back, his wand out and his face purple with fury.

'You killed my father!' he snarled, bristling all over for a fight.

'Professor Rolleston did,' Albus mumbled. 'Get out of my way or I will kill you.'

It was an empty threat, but Noxious was a coward and he did nothing but huff and scowl as Albus pushed past him. It offered Albus some small solace to learn that Noxious had transferred to another school in Europe (most probably the Black Forest School of Magical Arts), for his third year.

The atmosphere was worse in Gryffindor Tower. The sixth years were particularly boisterous, and a couple hoisted Albus onto their shoulders when he first returned to the House. It took a sharp word from Thomas to get them to put him down and leave him be. But it was with the Pirates that Albus felt least comfortable. There was a painful chasm between them. Hardly any of the nine dared speak in each other's presence, particularly when Albus was around. More than once he chanced upon a pair of second years whispering feverishly in his absence. Their strange behaviour only served to heighten Albus' sense that he was to blame for Victoria's death. Mars had to explain that the other second years simply did not know what to so around him; that they too were grieving, and that all of them felt sorry for him.

Yet a part of Albus wished that someone would openly chastise him. The further time separated him from Victoria's death, the greater his guilt became. He could not stop looking at her usual seat in their various classes. Indeed, so distracted from his lessons was he that he only learned of their impending examinations a week before they were to happen. But first was the funeral.

Victoria Moody's funeral took place on a Saturday morning in a small gothic chapel nearby the Moody's mansion. Mr. and Mrs. Moody and Victoria's younger brother stood alone in the front pew. The nine Gryffindor second years, Thomas Jones, a few Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff second years, Professors Prewett, Rolleston and Solstice; were in presence from Hogwarts. Archaeon had cleared the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher of wrongdoing, using Veritaserum to confirm Albus's suspicion: Professor Solstice had been under the control of Imhotep when he had tried to steal the Everlasting Flame. Professor Solstice had had the decency to approach Albus the day before the funeral, offering his sincerest apologies that he had ever fallen under the spell of the Egyptian Dark Lord.

The gothic chapel was dark and devoid of any religious symbols, barring a five-pointed star over the black altar. Victoria's body lay on a plinth, covered with a partly see-through white veil. In her hands she held a white lily. Albus could not bring himself to look upon her body throughout the service, choosing instead to stare at his hands. When Fawkes appeared out of thin air in the middle of the service and started to sing a strange and heart-warming lament, hot tears started to spill down Albus' face. As much as Fawkes' song alleviated his grief, it made real for him the fact that Victoria was dead. Victoria; the first girl he had ever had a crush on and subsequently come to love. He could not stop thinking of the afternoons he had spent with her, strolling on the boundaries of the Forbidden Forest holding hands, the sunlight sifting through the trees in hazy streams and falling upon her face. She had been his best friend, and now she was gone.

Victoria Moody was buried in a cemetery outside the gothic chapel, her body laid to rest beside the tombstones of her grandfather, grandmother and great-uncle. All three of them had lived beyond one hundred and twenty. Victoria had been twelve.

* * *

Following Victoria's funeral, the other second years seemed to get over their grief, or at the very least, temporarily shelve it, in order to prepare for examinations. Much as Albus tried to concentrate, sitting beside Mars in the library during the long afternoons, he could not. He eventually abandoned making pretence of studying and took to walking the Hogwarts grounds. It was springtime, and the new grass was populating the fields. Pollen filled the air, flowers bloomed around the Herbology greenhouses, and the Forbidden Forest seemed to resound with life.

One afternoon while the rest of the school was locked in study, Albus ventured into the Forbidden Forest to visit Fawkes at the Everlasting Oak. He had not seen Fawkes since Victoria's death, other than at her funeral, and felt strangely detached from his phoenix. He had yet to come to terms with the fact that Fawkes had been absent during that climactic afternoon in the Temple of Ast, when Victoria had died. A small part of him resented Fawkes for not saving her. After all, hadn't Fawkes taken the _Avada Kedavra_ for him at the end of his first year?

Albus had to stop in his tracks when he came to the clearing where the Everlasting Oak grew. The vast tree, which normally had handsome brown bark and a few slender leaved branches at the top, was singed and blackened. It was as if lightning had struck it, rendering every leaf burned and the bark turned to ash. Albus wondered what in Merlin's name could have happened.

The answer was nailed to the tree in a piece of tattered scroll. Albus removed it from its nail and unraveled it, revealing a scrawl of messy handwriting. It read:

'_British filth,_

_You killed my brother. I will one day kill you. I will have my vengeance, even if I have to spend fifty years learning the dark arts. I had no other family, and you took it from me. I have burned this tree and, mark this; it is only the start of my revenge. I have the Orb now. You will never beat me._

_Lord Grindelwald.'_

Albus set the scroll on fire and stamped it into a fine ash on the forest floor. He could not care less if Grindelwald had the Orb of Duality. It had predicted that death would part him and Victoria, and if those were the sort of tidings that the Orb of Duality had for him, then he did not wish to see it ever again. A small chill raised the hairs on his neck when he read the line, '_you will never beat me',_ and he wondered for a moment whether the Orb had forecast it. Then he remembered that the Orb told one truth and one lie, and decided that the Orb must be lying. Albus Dumbledore resolved never to let the scab-faced, white-eyed "Lord Grindelwald" defeat him.

Just as Albus was about to leave the depressing, burnt frame of the Everlasting Oak, Fawkes fluttered down and landed on his shoulder. The phoenix nuzzled Albus' cheek, uttering soft notes that calmed his turbulent mind. Fawkes then caught Albus' eye and began its peculiar habit of conveying things to him through his eyes. Fawkes revealed that it had been Grindelwald's attack on the Everlasting Oak that had occupied him at the critical moment, combined with the fact that Fawkes was afraid of Horus. The Egyptian God apparently desired the phoenix for himself, and would certainly have kidnapped Fawkes to the other world if he had seen him. These explanations satisfied Albus, for who could possibly be angry with a magnificent gold and crimson bird with a song that uplifted the soul every time you heard it.

'Now that Victoria has gone,' Albus said softly, 'you are the best friend I have. Promise never to leave me.'

Fawkes chirped softly, but his eyes did not answer.

* * *

Exams lasted for a whole week, and Albus was not exempt from sitting them. It was fortunate then, that he was normally the best second year student by some distance, even including Jenning Ranger from Ravenclaw. So, despite his mind being preoccupied and his heart not in it, Albus managed to complete each of his exams without too much difficulty. There was no doubt that he failed to reach his usual standards of excellence in the practical aspects of his Transfiguration, Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts exams; as reflected by the looks of disappointment on Professors Bones, Rolleston and Solstice at the end of each exam. Albus' essays in the written components of his exams were shorter than they might normally be, without the usual level of detail and precision in his descriptions of spells, histories and magical theory. His moon-glow potion was not perfect silver; rather, it was a sullen grey, at the end of his Potions practical. But sullen, and grey, was how Albus felt, and he did not care how his exam results came out. There seemed little point in living without Victoria in his life. Gryffindor was not the same without her, he felt, and the Pirates were definitely without a future in his eyes. There could be no replicating the joyous times and mischievous pranks they had perpetrated, not with one of their number missing forever.

Not everyone was prepared to see Albus go through the rest of life like a ghost of his former self, however. Hours before the Leaving Feast in the Great Hall, Aberforth pulled Albus into a cupboard on one of the corridors.

'Hey, little brother, you are casting a shadow over the place,' Aberforth said. 'I think it is high time you cheered up and saw the better side of things again.'

'You don't understand,' Albus said dully. 'Victoria died and it was my fault. I can never forgive myself.'

'That is absurd,' Aberforth said, pulling at his messy scrag of brown hair. 'The way I heard it, you were a hero throughout the year. Thomas cannot speak highly enough of you, and he credits you with winning the Triwizard Tournament more than he credits himself. Your mate Mars reckons it was his and Victoria's fault that they ever went with you … that they forced you to take them.'

'Well, I suppose they did,' Albus muttered, 'but all the same …'

'No, not "all the same",' Aberforth snapped. 'You have been walking around like death incarnate for two weeks now, and it is high time you snapped out of it. Thomas Jones will be awarded the Triwizard Cup tonight, officially, and I would not be surprised if you receive a point or two for Gryffindor from Professor Prewett. If you sit there looking sorry for yourself, people will stop thinking that you are a hero, and start thinking of you as a sob. I do not want that of my brother.'

Albus had nothing to say in reply. He was staring at the floor of the cupboard, trying to keep the tears from spilling over his eyelashes.

'Hey, look at me,' Aberforth said, lifting Albus' chin to look up at him. Aberforth made a silly face. 'The summer holidays are coming and I have a stash of Firewhiskies in my chest to get mother and father drunk at Christmas again. Our Quidditch brooms are itching to be used against the Jones brothers; remember, you might be House Seeker next year! Surely you owe me a smile!'

Albus broke into a tentative smile for the first time in two weeks. He had been sombre for so many months that his cheeks ached, his muscles unused for so long. Aberforth ruffled his hair and then tussled with him against the door of the cupboard so that they both fell out into the corridor, frightening a trio of Ravenclaw first year girls. Albus was not ready to be happy, but he was willing to try, at least for Aberforth's sake.

The Leaving Feast was held in a Great Hall draped with black and lit with formal candles floating in mid-air. The mood was slightly subdued, but an overwhelming sense of expectancy ahead of the exams could be felt. The air seemed to crackle with the electricity of anticipation. Albus supposed he had nothing to lose by letting a few smiles break through, and even managed to discuss Quidditch with an avid Mars, William, Alabastor and Edward; before Professor Prewett cleared her throat and called for quiet.

'It is with a heavy heart that I call an end to this year of triumph and of tragedy,' Professor Prewett said, adjusting her monocle on her aged face. 'The loss of Victoria Moody was a grave blow to the life of Hogwarts, Gryffindor in particular. We will not forget her memory. But the time for mourning has passed us by, and it would be unfair to rob a just and deserving person of the eternal glory that he rightfully won in this year's Triwizard Tournament. So, we shall end the year on a positive note, if that is possible in the light of what has happened. I call upon Thomas Jones to receive the Triwizard Cup and our warmest congratulations for a remarkable and much deserved victory.'

The Great Hall erupted into deafening applause as Thomas walked to the front, his face gleaming. Albus noticed little Davey Jones dancing on the Hufflepuff table, and Gareth pumping his fist in the air at the Ravenclaw table. He allowed himself a genuine smile. He really like the Jones brothers, and was pleased to see that Thomas' victory had afforded them such happiness.

'But there is more to celebrate,' Professor Prewett said, once the noise had died down and Thomas had returned to the Gryffindor table with the sparkling silverware. 'It is my pleasure to announce the results of the House Championship, but before I can do that I must reward some outstanding performances with points.'

Professor Prewett proceeded to award a number of people from all four Houses with various numbers of points. Some received them for excellence in their examinations, even though the results were not due for some time, whilst others received them for performing well in their various school clubs. Her eyes eventually came to rest on Albus, not leaving him as she spoke.

'One student in particular has had to endure more than can be imagined,' Professor Prewett said. 'While many of you know of Albus Dumbledore's valiant efforts against the risen Dark Lord Imhotep last summer, very few of you know that he endured a kidnapping at the hands of Phineas Nigellus and Admiral Scholtz midway through the year, not to mention a near fatal attack from Jannes Grundelwald. Let us not forget the tragic end to the Third Task, either. Through all this, Albus has maintained his composure and produced level-headed magic and courage to assist Thomas Jones in his pursuit of Triwizard glory. He is a second year student well beyond his years. I award Albus Dumbledore one hundred points for his valour, and in so doing, I can conclude that Gryffindor are the winners of the House Championship by a whopping four hundred and five points!'

The whole of Gryffindor stood as one and cheered, not just for Albus but for their victory. It was Thomas Jones who collected the House Trophy on Gryffindor's behalf, and before long it ended up in front of Albus. He paused for the briefest of moments to dedicate it, in his thoughts, to Victoria, before raising the trophy and releasing a genuine grin and a laugh.

* * *

At last the Hogwarts' Express was pulling away from the shadow of the great castle, leaving behind it a year of regrets and unforgettable memories for Albus. For the very first time Albus was glad to be leaving Hogwarts, if only for a time. Deep down he knew that he would be glad to be back when third year started, but for now it was time to go home. Albus' cabin received numerous visitors on the way back, all of whom wished to congratulate him and offer their condolences. Albus saw them off with smiles and thanks, feeling ever more genuine in his gratitude as the afternoon wore on. He and his fellow Gryffindor second years engaged in exploding snap and Albus managed to hand Mars a lesson in wizard chess before the train rolled to a halt at Platform 9 and ¾. Albus' second year had come to an end.

That evening, Archaeon dismissed Aberforth to bed early as punishment for kidnapping that Ravenclaw girl earlier in the year, and Lubo made an excuse to depart the living room, leaving Albus alone with his father in front of a burning fire. The warm, flickering heat gave Albus comfort as he rested his head in the crook of Archaeon's arm.

'I feel I owe you an explanation after all this,' Archaeon said. 'So many of my actions this year must have seemed inexplicable to you; and for that I am truly sorry. You see, after Phineas Nigellus had escaped any genuine punishment at the end of your first year at Hogwarts, I sought to draw him out. I wanted a battle with him in front of the Ministry. I knew that the Triwizard Tournament and the Everlasting Flame would be a temptation beyond Phineas' powers to resist. I am afraid, Albus, that an old man's desire for justice resulted in a young girl's death. I am truly repentant.'

'It was not your fault,' Albus said philosophically. 'It was nobody's fault but fate. The Seer, Professor Trelawney, foresaw death, and death came. Sadly it was for her, but I suppose I must get on with life.'

'That is very wise of you, my son,' Archaeon said proudly. 'And before I forget, I have resolved to make a promise to you. In the light of the numerous attacks on your life that you have already faced, and the fact that you will always be noticed for your raw talent and your relationship to me; I have decided to give you coaching. This summer I will entrust unto you many of the skills that I have used to defend myself and defeat my enemies. You are already on the verge of being able to learn Legilimency and Occlumency, not to mention wand-less magic. I think it is time I stopped trying to protect you, and started trusting in your ability to protect yourself.'

Albus turned to look up at his father, a look of unrestrained joy on his face.

'Oh, thank you father,' Albus gushed. Archaeon grinned and hugged his son close to his great chest. It was in the lock of his father's embrace that Albus thought of one last question. He said, 'by the way, wherever did you put the Everlasting Flame?'

'Ah, the everlasting fire that Ra gave to his queen, Isis,' Archaeon said happily. 'I returned it to the seventh chamber, and then, knowing the greed that will forever plague witches and wizards, I concealed the Temple of Ast in the desert sands of Egypt for all time; much in the same way as I concealed Heliopolis and Imhotep's Crypt at the end of last year, actually. I used everlasting spells, so no dark wizard will ever haunt those places again.'

But it was something smaller and apparently much less significant that marked the end of that dramatic year as Albus saw it. After a year of having to strain to see things clearly, and often feeling like the world was hidden behind a shroud or a haze, Albus convinced Lubo to take him to the Apothecary on Diagon Alley. There, the shopkeeper fitted Albus with a pair of glasses of his choosing.

In honour of Professor Ryan Rolleston, who had saved his father's life and taught Albus many a good lesson about life and maturity, Albus chose a pair of half-moon glasses.

It was wearing these for the very first time, and walking down Diagon Alley next to his mother and brother, chewing on Fizzing Whizzbees, that Albus watched the sun set at the end of the road. The sun spread its golden haze across horizon's curve, and the clouds overhead reflected pink and crimson in the day's dying light. A day came to a beautiful, inspiring end, and Albus closed the book on his second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

THE END

* * *

Author's Note: and thus it ends, the second of Albus Dumbledore's years at Hogwarts. I have thoroughly enjoyed taking this journey with you all. I thank every single reviewer who has (and will) review this story. Your comments shape the stories I write. I thank: flixy, SammyStar, Cloudslayer, Valandar, Melandry, babycino, speacalphred, ant87, belladonnacordial, Brigade701, hershey, Hogwarts-bad-boy, Arena, g, Jarno, waterlily422, rahul, notdiotima, Sara, Jessica Halliwell Potter, Erica Star, Meercat, gdh, TeeJaye, Celi, Silent Reader, DaReader, Zesuit, alexandira, gh, Godfric Potter, ROG1039, karthik, roniponi3333, almostanonymous, psychobubble, Draghknar, Ambrosius Emrys, arking, Fanfix, BovinePimp, blade13hip, Tabitha78, skittlelove, Sean, birds of morrigan, mthukral and The Allknowing Tonks. Thank you all.

I must hereby inform you that I have a book of my own to write, plus I am approaching my final university examinations at the end of this year. It will probably be a year before I have the opportunity to write Albus' third year at Hogwarts. But, seeing as everyone waits years for JK Rowling to update, I am sure you can forgive me a year. It is, in fact, a year to the day since I first started writing Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather, so I am certain my loyal readers will be able to wait that long. If not, thank you for taking the journey this far with me. I feel so privileged that people actually want to read my work. I hope my own book is this popular when I one day try to have it published in the real world! For now, thank you and goodbye. Your loyal Grandson of Dumbledore.


	24. Announcing Book 3

To all readers of the _Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts _Series

Announcing the arrival of Albus' third year at Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore and the Wizard's Ruse

Story ID: 3355187

ENJOY!

As ever,

Your loyal Grandson of Dumbledore


	25. The author has published for real

Greetings to fans of the Albus Dumbledore series on fan fiction.

I would like to apologize for not finishing this series, but my life became very busy – I am a doctor, and now, a published author.

If you liked my works, please see (michaeloehley dot com) for information about the "real" me, and about my first book, _The 4 Powers of Daren Sáner._ I hope you will buy it and enjoy the fantasy world that I created in my own imagination.

With best wishes,

Grandson of Dumbledore


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